


Bodyguard - Torchwood Style

by AwatereJones



Series: Torchwwod Style Movie re-writes [7]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Action/Adventure, M/M, Movie rewrite, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-05-29 02:23:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 33,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6354961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwatereJones/pseuds/AwatereJones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, I realized it was a while since the last one, so here's another movie rewritten to suit the boys.<br/>If you've never seen "The Bodyguard" then it's OK.  As long as you watched Lord of the Rings at some point, then you can be forgiven for not watching some of my rewrites.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introducing ...

In the darkness there is water dripping somewhere, as there is on board most Star Cruisers these days. The echoing approach of two sets of footsteps. There is the sound of a sudden, quick scuffle, a heavy fall of bodies.

Three screaming shots.

Two from one sonic gun, one from another. So fast and close, they're barely distinguishable. The sound of them against the bulkhead echoes … and fades away.

Silence.

In his mid to late 30s, Jack Harkness peers intently over a smoking gun. He is The Bodyguard.

The hitman is dead on his feet, leaning against an airlock. A gun drops heavily from his hand. His life ebbs as he slides slowly down the metal door to his knees then falls forward, facedown on the grated metal floor.

Jack is lying on top of a Killergion. Protectively pressed body to body on the filthy metal floor of the Cruiser.

The Killergion, a handsome,50-grebb-old diplomat, gasps in barely controlled fear as his five limbed expensive suit soaks up a black pool of … something we dare not even imagine. There is no movement.

The two men are lying near the door of a bay. Blood spreads from the body of the hitman, a few yards away. The Killergion starts to raise himself up but Jack keeps him pressed to the floor, still alert for any further threat.

A beat, and voices approach. Jack wheels, his sonic .357 aimed at them.

"Freeze!" Jack snarls.

A uniformed crewman freezes in his tracks. Jack lowers his weapon and speaks. "Call the Brig."

.

.

.

Passing foot traffic reveals a Vid-Com Screen , behind the reflections of the artificial running lights, all the Screens are showing the same picture, the glittering image of a man singing. Through the voices as people hurry past to get the quarters comes the sound of his song "I have nothing."

.

.

.

.

A battered old desk. Scattered across the top - a pile of blank white paper, a jar of glue, a stack of magazines, a pair of scissors, a VCom remote control, softly in the background, a VCom is playing the same image we saw in the showroom window, the same song.

Hands appear.

Gloved hands.

The hands pick a magazine off the stack called Screen put the magazine down and pick up the scissors. A headline on the cover reads: "IANTO JONES'S GREATEST TRIUMPH!" The scissors start to cut.

Meticulously they excise the name "IANTO JONES" from the page. With the care of a surgeon.

.

.

.

A rowdy sound of screaming, pushing bodies.

Arms stretch out, cameras flash, microphones are thrust forward. A deafening cacophony of "Ianto, Ianto! Ianto! Over here! Over here! This way, Ianto! Ianto! Ianto!"

We cannot see the object of this frenzy.

We catch a brief glimpse of an attractive, well-dressed young dark skinned woman, exiting with the other celebrities, as she is pushed and casually jostled aside by the mass of surging fans and media. Her face is calm and impassive as she watches from the sidelines.

.

.

.

In a gold panelled room stylishly hung with a few choice paintings that reflect the Killergion's success as a diplomat, he pours two snifters of brandy as he speaks with Harkness.

"Your hands ever shake, Jack?" he asks as he offers Jack a drink.

"Sometimes." Jack concedes, "It's just adrenaline."

"How did you know?" the Killergion asks.

"I saw him checking the airlock timer." Jack shrugged.

"I saw him too." The Killergion frowned with confusion.

They don't have active timers on the upper levels." Jack says softly as the Killergion hands a glass of hyper-brandy to Jack, who looks at it.

"You know, I'd like you to stay on." Jack is told as a sealed envelope is slid to him.

"I'm not good in permanent positions, my feet go to sleep." The two men smile at each other. They raise their glasses in a joint salute – the Killergion drinks.

Jack doesn't.

.

.

.

The gloved hands are gluing the word "TIME" onto a message that is taking the classic form of a ransom note. Apparently an acceptable form of threat in any galaxy. Each word has been cut from a different page and is in a different typeface. The note is being assembled with such care that it has an unusually neat appearance and is quite easy to read. It reads:

**JONES BASTARD - YOU HAVE EVERYTHING**

**I HAVE NOTHING. THE TIME TO DIE IS ...**

**.**

**.**

**.**

A blur of hands and faces. Excited fans. Pieces of paper, autograph books, and notes are thrust forward.

Again, a mass chanting "Ianto! Ianto! Ianto!"

Hands of Ianto's entourage accept some of the proffered items.

Ianto is signing "Best wishes, Ianto Jones" on an out-stretched open palm. In the midst of the urgent mess of hands and paper, a decorated doll is thrust forward, bearing the legend - **"IANTO, WE LOVE YOU."**

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jack gets out of a hover cab with two suitcases. His house is a modest steel affair on a small lot. He goes up the walk and puts down his suitcases. He looks at rampant undergrowth and overgrown circulars cover his doorstep. He picks up a few and fishes a bunch of keys from his pocket. A curious neighbour peers from behind a net curtain. As the door opens, we are aware of a further pile of mail inside. Jack's feet push the letters aside and go inside. The door shuts.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Harkness has carefully set a place for himself at the table in a breakfast nook. A bottle of red Hyper Wine is open with a glass beside it.

At the stove he stirs and flavours a stew and reads a Time Agents magazine. He adds a splash of wine. He lifts the pot from the stove and tries a piece of meat.

At the table, he looks at the place setting and absently eats another piece of meat. Finally he sets the pot on the plate and eats from it directly while glancing through the magazine.

.

.

.

Lots of people are schmoozing in the dressing room.

There's a loud buzz of excited chatter. Hands are stacking flowers, good luck messages, cards and cables by the mirror.

The doll with its embroidered ribbon message "IANTO, WE LOVE YOU." Is casually moved to one side, among the flowers resting on the small portable Vcom screen.

On the screen is an image of Ianto performing on stage, acknowledging applause, and bowing.

The doll suddenly explodes, destroying the Vcom, the mirrors and the surrounding lights.

There is screaming and chaos.


	2. first impressions

Jack lounges in his shorts under the single tree, sunglasses on, a glass of iced tea by his side. Strains of "DON'T WALK AWAY RENEE" come from a beat-up transistor radio **.**

An old-fashioned lawn sprinkler lazily waves water back and forth over the freshly cut grass. Antique throwing knives lay scattered nearby. A wooden post is sticking out of the ground in front of the fence at the back of the yard. Mickey Smith fortyish, a distinguished-looking black gentleman, stands nearby trying to engage Jack in a conversation that up to this point hasn't been going well.

He's Ianto's personal manager.

"So, you won't protect Ianto Jones just because he's in show business?" Mickey snorts.

"I don't do celebrities." Jack drawls, not bothering to open his eyes.

"But the biggest money's in show business people." Jack says nothing. His eyes are closed behind the sunglasses. Smith picks up one of the throwing knives.

He holds it carefully by the blade and throws it. It misses the post by three feet and clatters against the fence.

Jack opens his eyes, sees what's going on and closes his eyes again.

"Do you really do these things?" Mickeys asks as he picked up another one.

"Isn't he the one who collects dolls?" This is enough to distract Smith from his knife-throwing.'

"Harkness, Ianto Jones is one of the most famous people in the American cluster. He's won every music award invented. He's got the number one song in the galaxy right now and he'll probably be nominated for an Oscar in his very first picture. And you want to know Isn't he the one...?' Christ,

man, where've you been?" Mickey says with open disgust.

"You mean he doesn't collect dolls?"

"Yes. He collects dolls." Mickey throws his arms up in despair.

"I thought I knew who he was."

Smith tries to size up whether Jack is kidding him or not. Jack's face betrays nothing. Smith gestures with the knife. "You're probably deadly with these things, aren't you?"

"Deadly." Jack mutters.

"Show me."

Jack doesn't move.

"Why are you resisting this job?" Mickey seems genuinely puzzled, "$2,000 Credits a week."

" **$2,500."**

"There are several good men available for that kind of money. Have you talked to Fitz or Randy? Portman?

"Yeah. Portman was interested..." Mickey senses an opening and sits down beside Jack for what he takes to be the first serious talk. "... but we're told you're the best."

"There's no such thing." Jack scoffs.

"Harkness, we're talking about a very frightened young man. With a seven-year old son. Believe me, I wouldn't be here if I didn't think this was for real" Mickey waits a pause or two, "Harkness, he begged me to get you."

Jack sits up finally and looks at Smith a long time. He picks up five throwing knives and stands up.

"All right. I'll come and I'll look the situation over. If I take it,

it's three thousand a week."

Okay. You must be very deadly for three grand a week." Mickey sighs with relief.

Jack is now about twenty feet from the wooden post. He throws one of the knives. It misses the post and clatters against the fence.

"Shit." Jack mutters to himself as Smith's face drops. Jack examines the next knife.

"I know it's something like..." The second knife gets away from him at the top of his arc and disappears into some bushes about three feet from

Smith. Smith stands up in a hurry and moves behind Jack.

"Sorry." Jack raises his hand to throw again, then stops and motions Smith off to the side. "Better not stand right behind me."

Smith smiles weakly. Jack lets the third knife go with one smooth motion.

The knife sinks an inch into the centre of the post.

THUMP.

Jack's hand arching again. Throwing the remaining knives. Both knives stick in the post forming a straight vertical line with the first one.

.

.

.

.

.

**JONES ESTATE**

Jack stops his nondescript Hover across the quiet street from the closed, unmanned gate at the bottom of the Jones driveway.

As he looks over the gate, the wall, the heavy vegetation and the rising grounds beyond. He has a curious sense of being watched, a kind of prickling on the back of his neck. As he looks around, a black Toyota 4X4, parked some way down the road, drives rapidly off - too fast to get a clear look. He watches it go.

Jack pulls up to the gate and gets out of his car. He grabs a bar of the gate and pulls. The whole gate rattles. Jack gets back in his car and pushes a button on the intercom box at the side of the gate.

Transmission is terrible. "Yes?"

"Jack Harkness to see Mr Jones." Jack says calmly.

"What?"

"Alexander Graham Bell to see Mr Jones!" Jack sing songs.

"Have you got an appointment?"

"The atomic number of zinc is 30." Jack shouts.

"All right." There is a humming and the gate swings arthritically open.

As he moves up the winding drive through heavily landscaped grounds. Plenty of potential hiding places. The mansion is at the top of the hill. The grounds behind the mansion fall away.

The bubble of the airlock screen is visible as the stars twinkle for a moment, before the fake atmospheric picture resumes.

The mansion is huge. On and on it goes. Jack drives past the garage area where Henry, the chauffeur, is polishing the mascot on the limousine. One of his arms is bandaged. Henry peers at Jack, puts down his cloth and walks toward the entrance where Jack is parking.

Jack gets out, looks around. A painter's truck is parked nearby, two painters unloading equipment from it.

"Can I help you?" Henry asks politely, dropping a cloth in the bucket.

"Are you the man on the intercom?" Jack demands.

"No. Can I help you?" Henry shows confusion.

My name is Edison. I have an appointment with Mr Jones." Jack leans against the pristine paintwork.

"Oh. And that was arranged by...?"

"Mr. Smith."

"Go right ahead, Mr. Edison." Henry points to the back entrance.

"What happened to your arm?" Jack hesitates as we waits for an answer.

"A doll."

He goes back to the limousine.

Jack RINGS the DOORBELL, although the door is not shut. Estelle, a sixtyish housekeeper, appears. A man in coveralls comes out past her, carrying a length of non-timber.

"Henry Ford, to see Mr. Smith." Jack winks and notes the way she looked at his shoes.

"Come in, please." Estelle steps to one side and Jack steps into the foyer with Estelle. She is a warm, matronly woman who does a fine job running the house without standing on custom.

"I'll tell you quite honestly, Mr. Ford, I don't know where Mr. Smith is. Did he say he'd be here?" she frowns.

"Yes."

"Then he probably is." She sighs, "Let me look."

She leads Jack into a large, unused formal parlour. There are dustsheets over the furniture and the walls are being repainted. On a number of TV screens scattered around, Ianto's latest video is continuously playing. The sound of the song itself - "I HAVE NOTHING" - comes softly from concealed

speakers.

"Please make yourself at home. Can I get you anything?"

Jack demurs and Estelle disappears back through the foyer. Jack watches her go, then moves off into the house in the opposite direction. It's obviously undergoing a major redecoration. Painters, decorators and designers come and go, oblivious to Jack's presence.

The deeper Jack walks into the house, the warmer and more lived-in rooms appear.

Jack steps into a tiled room that overlooks the pool area. One wall is all glass. On the opposite wall are shelves containing the trophies of Ianto Jones's career: A Tony award, three Grammy's, gold and platinum records,

other statuettes and plaques. Among the framed photographs of Ianto accepting awards etc., is one of him and his small son, Flynn, both dressed in a tuxedo. Both are goofing off for the camera with obvious affection. Jack looks down at the pool.

Dwarfed by the pool, the only person in sight is seven-year old Flynn, the little boy from the photograph, dark-haired and fragile. He is crouched at the side of the pool with the remote control unit for a foot-long speedboat which is cutting across the water. A nanny sits, some way off, embroidering.

Jack's attention is distracted. A heavier Bass beat comes from somewhere nearby in the house, another Ianto Jones number, but this time up-tempo and bouncy.

Jack follows the sound.

Jack walks into the rear of the room that the noise is coming from.

It is large and comfortable with plenty of seating, a bar, a wall of stereo gear and a projection booth. It is packed with people, props and video equipment. There is lots of activity, a general air of barely-organized

chaos.

Music blares out.

A group of six dancers, is rehearsing an energetic dance number for a music video, directed by their choreographer Rory. Sunlight throws them in a silhouette against the glass wall at the end of the room. A video cameraman

circles them, taping the rehearsal, which appears on a large-screen TV behind them.

In one corner, a pretty black girl is being pinned into a proposed costume for the video. Several people are standing around, tending to the video and playback gear. All the chairs face the far end of the room and it isn't immediately apparent how many more people are hidden among the big cushions.

As Jack sits on the barstool at the back, a large swivel chair turns to reveal Smith. He waves to Jack and makes his way over to him.

On the other side of the room, a brawny, heavyset man in his late thirties rises to look at Jack. He has a twenty-inch neck. Smith signals to him that everything is all right. The brawny man looks at Jack a moment more, then sits down.

Jack looks around the room. A shelf laden with vitamins. Guitars of various makes. A flute. A gold record being used as a coaster. People smoking and chatting through the rehearsal.

In one of the chairs, a fuller figured yet pretty woman in her late thirties is knitting.

She glances occasionally at the dancers. A man sits next to a phone busily discussing a contract with someone at the other end of the line.

The music climaxes and abruptly stops. The dancers hold their dramatic final poses for a second, then relax again.

"Playback, everybody!" a voice demands.

Ianto's voice comes from the sofa. "Come here, Rory!"

The choreographer skips to the sofa and disappears from sight. Sound of kissing, laughter. The video rewinds on the big screen and the dancers gather round it expectantly.

"Sugar, that's gonna be great. I love the ending..." Ianto's rolling vowels attract Jack.

Smith moves to the front of the room. The recording behind him. There are several overlapping conversations going on.

"Ianto..." Smith says softly.

"Rhiannon, how'd you like the number?" Ianto calls out, "You like the end routine?"

"Ianto. You wanna see it back from the beginning or just the ending..."

Rhiannon, responds to Ianto's question. "It was just great, Rory..."

But Ianto is already replying to the video director. "I wanna see it all. Tony? I'll bet Tony loved it."

The brawny man, Tony, shrugs and stands to look at Jack as he speaks. "Whatever."

"Don't worry, Rory. Tony doesn't appreciate great art." Ianto laugh as the pinned-up girl has been brought forward for Ianto's approval, elbowing Smith a little to one side.

"What do you think, Ianto?"

"Ianto, Jack Harkness is..." Mickey tries again.

"Smith, do you think this is me?" Ianto demands, "Will she match?"

"It's terrific..." Smith is now facing the unseen Ianto. "Ianto, Jack Harkness is here."

Smith nods in Jack's direction. Rhiannon looks at Jack.

"Who's here?" Ianto asks, waving a hadn to try and silence the voices around them.

"Jack Harkness." Mickey snarls, anger flaring.

"The bodyguard!"


	3. first walk-out

"I think Rory should be my bodyguard." Ianto says petulantly, "Let's see the back again..."

"Ianto, raise your butt out of there and meet this man." Mickey demands and Ianto Jones finally rises from the sofa.

It's a bit of a shock to see that he is only about thirty years old. If that! A young man. Not beautiful, not ugly. Unique only in that he is immediately interesting. A Superstar.

"Well, I'm up." Ianto huffs with a glare.

Ianto and Jack look across the room at each other. Jack comes forward.

"Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones" Ianto offers his hand and they shake. Ianto looks him up and down.

"You don't look like a bodyguard."

"What did you expect?" Jack grins with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know. Tough guy maybe." Ianto snorts.

"This is my disguise." Jack counters.

"Well, his timing's good." Ianto smiles and the air has left the room as far as Jack is concerned, a plain face has become a thing of beauty.

"This is Rhiannon, Ianto's sister and personal secretary." Mickey points and Jack blinks as he turns.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Harkness." Rhiannon has the same vowels, but not as clipped.

"... Tony Scobell." Mickey points to thick neck and Tony nods but makes no move to shake hands.

Ianto dismisses the Dress Designer. "The back's still not right..."

Spector, still on the phone, offers a perfunctory wave. "... Sy Spector, Ianto's publicist."

"Can we get you a drink?" Ianto looks expectantly for someone to do so.

"Orange juice." Jack asks politely.

"Straight? Rhiannon."

Rhiannon goes to the bar. Ianto sits and motions for Jack to sit opposite him. "Rory, I'll be with you in a second."

Rory gets up, and goes over to his dancers at the big screen video.

"Listen, this whole thing is Mickey's idea... This sudden obsession with protecting me. Tony has always handled my security and we've done just fine." Ianto says quietly.

"Ianto runs a very informal household, we're all on a first name basis..." Spector has finished up on the phone and jumps in. ...And I'm sure you'll blend in just fine. You can select whatever alarm systems you want for the house. Some kind of improved security for the gate. What else, Ianto?"

Ianto stands and starts to wander over to Rory and the dancers.

Jack looks at Smith. Smith doesn't like the tone this is taking.

"I think I'm safe when I'm here at the house so I guess the main thing will be when I go out. Tony will be able to fill you in on all that. You two will have to work something out. I don't want both of you falling all over me everywhere I go. The most important thing is this - I will not allow Flynn to be affected by this thing..." Ianto says grandly as Rory puts his arm around his waist and stands behind him, starting to run through his steps with him in slow motion.

"I was just going to cover that." Spector says, "We'll have to tell the child you have some other function..."

"I don't want him to think he's in prison. So the house and grounds must not be altered in any way. He shouldn't be aware that you're here. Is that clear?" Ianto interrupts, not bothering to look up from his feet.

Jack looks at him a long time, glancing up at Smith once.

"Mr Jones..." Jack barks.

"Ianto."

"There's been a mistake. A misunderstanding. If you'll show me the quickest way out, we'll save each other a lot of trouble." Jack's on his way. Someone brings a silver headpiece on a stand to Ianto. He ignores it, still looking at Jack.

"You can go past the pool." Tony sneers.

"Shut up, Tony." Mickey snaps.

"Nice meeting you." Jack starts to leave.

"Harkness, will you wait a minute?" Mickey calls out as he struggles past the melee of people.

"Mick, I don't think we should be begging this guy for his services." Spector sneers.

"Sy, I'm handling this." Mickey snaps.

Ianto looks on coolly as Jack slides open the glass door.

"Harkness, will you wait a minute?" Mickey yells.

Jack is walking rapidly away from the window wall, down the slope. Smith is scurrying to keep up.

"Harkness, will you wait a minute? I should have told you more. I'm sorry but I was afraid he wouldn't go through with it. I thought I'd let the two of you work it out... come to an understanding."

"We did." Jack starts to walk off. Smith is grasping at straws.

He's not a bad person, and whether he knows it or not, he needs you." Mickey has a hand on Jack's arm and he hesitates, "You've come this far... Would you just wait here for one minute. I want to show you something. Please, Jack."

Smith runs back to the house.

Flynn, happy to have someone to talk to, walks up to Jack with his remote-control speed boat. Jack would like to walk away, but Flynn blocks his way. Jack looks at Flynn's frail little, nut-brown figure. The watching nanny continues her embroidering, some way off.

"Hi!" Flynn says softly.

"Hi."

"How are you today?" Flynn grins up at the handsome stranger.

"All right. How 'bout yourself?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Do you like boats?" Flynn offered his boat for Jack's inspection.

Jack gives up. He's not going to get out of here. He stops.

"No. I don't like boats."

"You don't! Why not?" Flynn cants his head.

Oh, I don't know." Jack shrugs.

"Sure you do, but you don't want to tell me." Flynn guesses.

Jack considers him, then slips out of his sport coat. He crouches down so that he is eye-level with Flynn.

"You're a smart kid."

Flynn nods.

"I'll tell you." Jack decides. "One time I was stuck on a boat with some people for four months."

"A lifeboat?"

"Nope. A big white yacht. Do you know what a yacht is?" Jack was starting to like this kid.

"Yeah. My Taddy rented this huge yacht once, and we took a trip. It was great. Everyone threw up except me. I love 'em." Flynn laughs.

"Well, nobody's perfect" Jack mutters as he rises to leave.

Flynn squints up at him, the sun in his eyes. "You're the bodyguard, aren't you?"

Jack is surprised. "What do you know about it?"

"I've got ears." Flynn shrugs.

"I'll remember that." Jack says softly as Smith trots into the pool area, out of breath. He is holding a bulging manila file. As he sees Flynn, he holds the file casually at his side. Jack sees Flynn looking at the file.

"How are you, Flynny?" Mickey asks then turns to Jack, "I'm glad you waited. Let's go over here."

"Nice meeting you, kiddo." Jack says and Flynn looks after them silently.

They sit at a large metal table under a patio and Smith slides the file across the table at Jack, opening it. Inside are letters of every size and condition. Repeatedly throughout his examination of the file, Jack's gaze is drawn to Flynn, who has started his boat again.

After a while, Mickey speaks," This is just in the last six months."

"Have you ever tried having these professionally assessed?" Jack taps the file with his fingers.

Smith shakes his head no.

Jack begins to look through the letters, flipping them by the corner of the page. From many different sources, some are scrawled, some typed, some assembled from cut-outs.

Many are soiled and torn, others immaculate. Occasionally, one will have a photo of Ianto with crude markings on it. Spector enters sucking on a popsicle. He comes to stand over Jack's shoulder, peering casually at the piles of letters.

"Smith says you were in the Time Agency." Spector asks.

Jack nods.

Jack goes through them quickly, with an expert eye. He sometimes pauses to read one more carefully. A few he removes from the stack and places in the centre of the table.

"Ever guard the main man?"

"I was two years with Schartz and four years with Hurt." Jack sets another letter in the centre pile. He stops, smiling at it.

"This is a little old lady in the Akrondion System. She's written to everybody I've ever worked for." He says affectionately as he points to the pile. "Can't help herself. Harmless though."

He continues to turn until something stops him. Several letters are paper-clipped together. They are the pasted-up type we saw being assembled on the desk top.

"Hurt got his chest blown out." Spector scoffs and his chatter is beginning to annoy Jack.

"Not on my shift."

Spector emits a gratuitous laugh, acknowledges the joke. "That's good."

Jack goes back to his letters. He taps the stack in the centre of the table. "At first glance, these don't bother me. But keep them. You never know."

He separates one letter from the others.

"This could be something."


	4. low key?

Smith searches Jack's face.

"You think it could be the same guy? The one who rigged the doll?"

"I don't know. Did you tell Mr Jones about it? Does he know about the doll?" Jack asks and Smith and Spector exchange looks. This is plainly a sore point between them.

"We said there'd been some electrical problem while he was on stage." Sy says, "Short circuit. Look, he doesn't need that kind of worry right now.

It would upset him."

"What about the police?" Jack asks with surprise.

"There was no reason for the police." Sy sneers, "No one got hurt."

"What about the chauffeur?" Jack points out.

"It was nothing. It was just our people there."

Jack turns and watches Flynn by the pool. Smith's eyes are still on Jack's face.

"Sy, I think we should show him the room."

Jack follows Spector and Smith into the room. He glances around, taking in the murals, the decor, the kitsch attempt at monetary splendour right from the pages of a tabloid layout.

"Is this his bedroom?" Jack finally asks.

"Yes." Spector answers.

"No. He sleeps in a room next to Flynn's down the hall. Sy had this done for a magazine layout," Smith interrupts with a glare for Sy.

'Superstars in their Boudoirs.' It was called, "Spector said, "Did you see it?"

"No." Jack said flatly.

"Ianto never liked it." Smith snorted.

"he didn't have to like it..." Smith gently lays the cut-out letter on the bed. "We found the letter here."

"Somebody was in here?" Jack starts.

"Somebody broke in and ..." Smith grimaces, "masturbated on the bed."

"And he doesn't know about this either?" Jack surmises.

Smith shakes his head.

"Are you kidding? This would really freak him out." Smith sorted, "What do you think?"

"Someone penetrates the house, gets upstairs and jerks off on the bed ... I'd say that qualifies as a problem." Jack huffs as he looks around for any sign of forced entry.

"What kind of problem?" Smith demands.

"Of fuck, we don't need this now..." Spector mutters.

"This house is wide open." Jack informs them.

"Excuse me?"

"I said this house is wide open" Jack resists the urge to roll his eyes, "and you people have no clue what real security is or what it takes to achieve it."

"Jack, I totally respect what you're telling me. Tell me how you want to work and I'll accommodate you." Smith assures him, grateful that someone is finally listening to him.

"Look, I can't protect him. I won't be responsible for his safety if he doesn't know what's going on." Jack says calmly.

"I'll talk to him, I'll make him understand. I can do that." Smith nods.

"No. I'll talk to him." Spector exits the room in a huff.

Jack emerges from the house with Smith and crosses toward his car.

"He won't give you any static, Jack, you've got my word on that." Smith promises but Jack is still focused on Flynn.

"Sure he will." Jack mutters.

"So what job's perfect? You're a bodyguard, aren't you?" Smith snorts.

Slowly, Jack faces him. "Yeah."

As they reach the car, Smith is relieved. He dares a perfect smile.

"Smith, if you ever lie to me again, I'll take you apart."

.

.

.

Henry Dupres is leaning against the doorjamb. The room is comfortable, a guest bedroom. Jack flops one battered suitcase onto the bed and opens it. He pulls open some drawers in the dresser and starts putting away his clothes.

"Why'd you say your name was Edison?" Henry asks.

"I wanted to see how hard it was to get in." Jack answers.

"And it wasn't, was it?" Henry unconsciously flexes his fingers, easing the muscles in his hands. Jack notices and pulls out a small tube of ointment from a pouch he's unpacking. He hands it to Henry.

"Put this on your arm. It'll help the ache." Jack offers and Henry takes it but is noncommittal.

"I'll bet you can fill up a whole day just washing the cars and driving Ianto Jones around town."

"That's my job." Henry replies.

"We're adding to your duties." Jack says as he places a book by the bed.

"Huh?"

"You're my new assistant." Jack removes three boxes of cartridges from the suitcase and puts them in the back of a dresser drawer as Henry watches.

"Says who?" Henry scoffs.

"Henry, I've spent a lot of time guarding people all over the universe and I've found one thing to be true. No matter how incompetent the assassins, no matter how much they miss their target by, there's one person who always gets hit."

"Who?" Henry asks with interest.

"The cocky black chauffeur."

Henry considers this for a moment and smiles.

.

.

.

.

**_It's Oscar time again, and with Academy members marking their ballots today for this year's nominations; some canny tipsters in Vegas have announced their picks for the Awards._ **

**_Echoing the prevailing buzz in New-Hollywood, the Vegas Hilton is gambling on one sure thing at least. Newcomer Ianto Jones is tipped at 3 to 1 to lead this year's Best Actor runners._ **

**_The sultry singer made a notable acting debut last fall in Queen Of The Night, singing the hit song 'I Have Nothing'. The Lad may end up eating his words if he takes home that statuette March 20th..._ **

.

.

The fortification of the estate begins as Jack and Henry walk the grounds. Jack talks and points, Henry takes notes on a pad. Jack gestures at the stonework of the gate, points at the top of the stone wall along Waverly Lane. At the tall hedges which separate the estate from its neighbours, Jack gestures to take in the entire length of the hedged border. Henry stops in amazement. Jack keeps walking.

Flynn stands at the edge of the terrace, staring down across the rear grounds. Jack and Henry are down there conferring about the fence.

Ianto appears beside Flynn, looks down there too, then leads his son purposefully away. Flynn isn't happy about it.

Jack tours the house with Estelle and Henry. Jack opens various doors, fidgets with locking mechanisms. Estelle finds it all exciting.

A small room at one end of the pool house has been fitted with a wall mirror and ballet exercise barre. Music belts out and Rhiannon, dressed in leotards, is doing pre-aerobic stretching exercises. Jack appears outside the window. Rhiannon waves him in. Unseen by Jack, a huge St. Bernard lays

in the front of the door. He muscles his way in, the dog never moves, just slides along the floor as Jack pushes the door open. Jack looks the room over.

"Unusual tactic for a guard dog," Jack snorts, "but effective."

Rhiannon smiles, gesturing him in.

"You can look around if you like." She offers and Jack indicates it won't be necessary. Rhiannon stops working out.

"I'm sorry to disturb you." Jack says softly.

"That's all right. It's an excuse to rest. It's my private place." She smiles, "I'm the only one who works out around here."

Jack glances at photos on one wall. Most are of Rhiannon from years ago; some show her performing with a band.

"My own ego wall. No platinum records." She jokes.

Jack spots a picture of two children, "You and Ianto?"

"When I was a kid, I put a little band together. We played high school dances, stuff like that. Then Ianto joined the act. As you can imagine, he was quite a little entertainer. Even then, he had a way of stopping the show. So I kind of quit. Professionally, anyway." She says with false bravo.

"You never went back?"

"It was pretty obvious who the star in our family was."

Jack looks back at the picture. Rhiannon smiles.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jack and Henry walk toward the closed garages.

"That depends on what you call a 'hint.'" Henry is saying.

"I don't want anyone on the street to be able to look at the cars and know who owns them." Jack explained as Henry leans in a doorway and hits a master switch. The three doors of the garage start to rise in sequence.

"I don't think there's anything here you'd call a 'hint.'" Henry warns as the lights flicker and one at a time the doors go up to reveal:

First garage - the Cadillac limousine we've seen earlier.

License: IANTO 2

Second garage - a grey Mercedes. License: IANTO 3

Third garage - a Jaguar XKE in an outrageous pink. No other car in the known worlds is this colour. License: IANTO 1

Jack looks at Henry, who is laughing and shakes his head.

He walks toward the Jag.

Jack releases the hood. He looks inside for a moment, then reaches into the guts of the engine. He fiddles for a second, then stands up holding some wires and slams the hood shut again. He gestures toward the other two cars.

"Get new plates for those two."


	5. public stalking

The fortification continues as workmen use a bulldozer to clear away the stonework around the entrance.

Sitting beside Henry, Jack teaches him how to spin the limo in a 180 degree 'skid turn,' sending up clouds of dust. A group of roadies watching bursts into spontaneous applause.

Flynn sits on the grass about halfway to the house, watching the activity with delighted interest. He turns as he spots something beyond the hedge.

Workmen put up a seven-foot cyclone fence. Across the road, a black Toyota-hover is stopped. It slowly pulls away. We can't see inside it.

One worker pries a small boulder out of a hole with a crowbar. His partner picks up the rock and tosses it on a small pile of rocks. The boulder bounces down the backside of the pile.

Ianto, looking out his window at Flynn and the workmen, sees the rock stop a yard from him. Flynn scrambles away, much as a kid might dance back from a wave on a beach. The sight disturbs Ianto.

"Flynn! C'mon. Back in here!" Ianto calls out.

As he speaks, some workmen test the remote control on a window shutter. It descends in front of Ianto's face. He is not amused. Flynn passes Jack on his way to join Ianto.

He mutters almost under his breath. "I think he's got a black 4 X 4. Could be a Chevy. More like a Toyota."

Jack stares at Flynn, then looks back to the street.

.

.

.

The room is dark. An opaque projector throws an image onto a screen; it is a letter threatening Ianto's life. We hear voices. One is Jack's; the other two belong to special agents Ray and Terry.

The letter is one of the pasted-up threats we saw being assembled earlier. It reads:

**JONES BITCH –**

**YOU HAVE EVERYTHING**

**I HAVE NOTHING. THE TIME IS COMING**

**WHEN YOU SHALL DIE...**

"This is the one you think is tied to the doll?" Jack asks as he examined the screen.

"That's what his manager thinks."

"This 'I Have Nothing' business is a natural with the record and movie and all." Ray is speaking as the projector light goes off and the room light goes on.

The room is practically bare.

Ray, a prematurely white-haired, career civil servant, raises the window shade. Sunlight streams in. On Ray's lapel is a tiny P.T. Boat pin. Terry, a slight, dark 35-year-old, offers Jack a cigarette; Jack declines, Terry lights up.

"I sort of lost track of you after Planet Washington." Ray says.

"Yeah." Jack replies softly, still reading.

"How's the private stuff?"

"Fine." Jack grunts.

"Big money, I bet? Huh?" Ray asks enthusiastically.

Jack shrugs.

Ray looks at Terry knowingly.

Terry and Ray walk Jack to the lobby.

Ray is talking as he holds the door for Jack, "Shit. I knew it. It is big money. Fuck! You need an assistant? I'm ready to get out. I've lost my tolerance for assholicbehavior. You should see the jerk we're covering now..."

"'Hellfire Henry' Kent..." Terry groans, "Somebody wants to pop him..."

"Which isn't exactly surprising, considering what the shithead's been saying." Ray laughs and winks at Jack who raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah! Do everyone a favour..." Terry coughs ironically "As you know, we're non-political these days."

The three men laugh easily together. They have reached the lobby doors.

"Look Jack. We'll put this stuff through New-Washington. Behavioural Sciences should have something in a few days." Ray offers.

"Thanks." Jack nods then pauses, "Ray?"

"Yeah?"

"Why am I getting all this cooperation?"

"He's a big star. Important people care about him." Terry says amicably.

"Politics and show business are practically the same these days... Got any crowd photos we can use?" Ray asks.

"I'm trying to keep him away from crowds." Jack snorts.

Ray laughs, "Good luck."

.

.

.

It's busy. Lots of customers arriving, leaving and are seated at tables. Waiters criss-cross the terrace. Near the entrance, Ianto is saying goodbye to a middle-aged woman. Jack stands nearby with Rhiannon. The Woman says something to Ianto, who turns and looks at Jack. Ianto whispers something to the Woman and they both laugh. They kiss and Ianto moves toward the entrance.

Jack wonders if there is anything between them, the way the woman's hand lingered.

 _Jealousy?_ Jack snorts at himself. _Get a grip Harkness._

The woman hesitates and turns with a fake smile, "Goodbye, Rhiannon. So great to see you."

Rhiannon waves and follows Ianto. Jack stays very close without seeming to walk with Ianto.

A little girl darts into their path and approaches Ianto.

Ianto glances at Jack, who has stopped with him, and then he signs an autograph for the girl. The girl's mother, close behind her, hands a small camera casually to Rhiannon to be photographed as she and her daughter pose with Ianto.

Jack watches Rhiannon quietly comply.

Ianto, Spector and Jack all reach the front entrance together, and Jack slips out first, glancing around.

Ianto comes out and passes within inches of him.

"I'm surprised you didn't plug them." Ianto mutters under his breath as he sashays past and Jack holds back a smile.

_Cheeky._

Ianto attracts the usual stares from passersby. As they reach the limousine, Jack continues scanning the street. Tony stares at him, uncomprehending.

"Hey, let's go." Tony snarls and Jack takes a last look then gets into the front seat next to Tony.

"O.K. Henry, let's go." Jack nods and Tony looks at Jack, eyes narrowing.

From across the street, we see the limo pull away.

The dark shape of another vehicle appears, slowly moving behind them.

Jack sits beside Tony, next to the door. Tony speaks to him in a near whisper. "Let me set you straight on a few things. For starters, I love this boy... What I do for him I do for love. I'm not some hired fuckin' gun who is out to make his life miserable."

While Tony speaks, Jack's eyes dart to the side mirror; his gaze never leaves it.

"I do things the way he likes." Tony is still spouting, "His happiness is everything to me."

Jack speaks while concentrating on the mirror. "No problem. I'd like to know how you handle things, Tony."

"I handle things fine, Jack. You watch me and you'll learn something."

Henry, turn left." Jack orders.

"Is that him?" Henry asks as he complies.

Jack shakes his head, he's not sure.

Tony reacts.

"Hey, what's going on?" Tony demands.

"Shortcut." Jack snaps.

"As the limo turns, it follows them into the turn.

Jack whispers to Henry. "Slow down, very slow"

"You want me to do a one-eighty?" Henry asks with excitement.

"No, just slow down." Jack whispers and the car slows.

Ianto and Spector are noticing the movement and they look up from some papers.

"Why are we stopping?" Spector demands, "Are we here?"

Behind them, it can be seen. Sensing something, it makes a sudden left turn, disappearing behind them.

The limo enters the gate where workmen are rigging a large fence.

Jack speaks to Henry. "Stop here... Take them to the house."

Jack jumps out and jumps a hedge, racing toward the lawn and work area.

As the car pulls away they see Jack running wildly across the property.

"What's with him?" Tony snorts to the rest of them.

As Jack comes through some bushes, he suddenly catches a glimpse of th through the trees. It starts to accelerate.

As it pulls away (it is too far to record the license number), he breaks into a full run toward the other end of the property.

Leaping hedges, Jack crashes through tropical vegetation. Pushing through a bamboo forest, he scurries down a steep wooded slope toward the road below. Th can be glimpsed through the trees as he runs to head it off.

A retaining wall about 14 feet high rises from the road to the slope. Without a pause, as the car speeds beneath, Jack leaps and drops the full distance to the road. The black hover zooms past barely missing him and turns a corner.

Hitting hard, Jack allows his knees to take the force of the fall, deliberately rolling once before he springs into a crouched upright position.

But it speeds around a corner and is gone.

Jack roars with rage.


	6. childish mood

The fortification continues as workmen tighten screws, install electrical wiring, test alarms and adjust laser points. As Jack watches over the work, we see him show Henry how to wear a SURV KIT communications system.

"Keep this loose." Jack says as he shakes the paper thin vest.

Flynn comes to take a look too. He peers up at Jack, expectantly. "Tell me about the car?"

"Toyota. Black." Jack barks as he pats Henry's arm.

"Four wheel drive? Late model?" Flynn cants his head as he speaks.

Jack nods. Flynn looks pleased.

"One snag though."

Flynn's face falls.

"What?" he asks Jack.

"360,000 of them in New Los Angeles." Jack informs the child, "I checked. Nice work, though."

Ianto has been watching Flynn and Jack down the hill. Now he leans back on the chaise lounge where he is sunning, trying to listen to a new song on a Vid-disc.

There is the loud sound of metalwork coming from the direction of the house.

Ianto jumps up and yells toward the house. "Shut up you assholes!"

A mild-looking metalist is working on Ianto's window. Ianto walks in from the pool, starting to peel off the swimsuit. He stops, startled, as he sees him. This is the last straw. He blows up.

"You! You! Out! Out! Now! Out of here! Get out!"

Terrified, the Old Locksmith drops his tools and begins backing out of the room.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you. I'm a real fan of yours, Mr Jones." The man blusters and still angry, but disarmed, Ianto makes a face.

"Then you can take your tools with you." he turns to the window, in what he imagines is Jack's general direction, and, like a little child, suddenly sticks out his tongue.

On a black and white TV screen, we see Smith's immaculate convertible Mercedes 500SL as it roars up the drive. Jack, Henry and Flynn watch in the newly-erected guard house. The area is greatly changed. There is a uniformed guard with an impressive array of switches, lights and phones at his command.

There are several TV screens; one of them shows a series of endlessly-panning shots from cameras at the rear of the grounds. On the other, the Mercedes kicks up dust from the last few curves in the drive.

Flynn shakes his head. He's seen it all before.

"Is that Smith?" Jack asks as if he doesn't know.

"He's got him by the short ones," Flynn says with fake bravado "doesn't he, Jack?"

Jack flicks a smile at Henry.

_Where did he learn that?_

"Yeah, he makes him nervous." they watch as Smith comes to a stop, gets out and hurries inside.

Rhiannon is cutting fruit at the bar.

Ianto, very tense, is taking the fruit and dropping it into a yogurt drink he's making in a blender.

Rory, his choreographer, stands behind him, massaging his neck and shoulders.

Spector is perched on a bar stool like a vulture.

Smith hurries into the room; Rhiannon gives him a look.

"I want him gone." Ianto demands.

"What is it now?" Smith sighs.

"He told Ianto no Sunday brunch at Charlie's." Rhiannon informs him with wide eye showing her humour at the situation.

"No Sunday brunch. That's why you called me up here?" Smith gapes.

"That is not it! It's my money and my life and I want him out of here." Ianto huffs petulantly.

"Where is he?" Smith sighs.

"On the patio." Rhiannon indicates through the glass door. Smith walks over to it.

"He's through messing with my life." Ianto sniffs.

"Ianto, I'm getting goddamn sick of running up here every time he steps on your toes." Smith snarls as he leans out to door, "Harkness! Would you come in here a minute?"

Smith walks back toward Ianto.

"Did you know he was nuts?" Spector demands, "Do you know who couldn't get

past the gates yesterday?"

"Who?"

"Robin Leacher, that's who." Rory sniggers into the back of Ianto's hair, fighting off a laugh. Ianto has difficulty keeping a straight face, too.

Spector glares at them as Jack enters from the sliding door.

"You think that's funny? The man talks to 20 million people and he can't even get in here."

"Did he have an appointment?" Jack asks blandly.

Smith turns to him. "Harkness, what is this about brunch at Charlie's? Ianto's been going there every Sunday for the last five years."

"I don't want him doing anything he's always done." Jack shrugs.

"'I don't want him doing anything he's always done.'" Ianto mimics sarcastically, "The guy's a fanatic."

"So are the guys he's protecting you from." Smith snaps.

"Excuse me if I don't faint." Ianto sighs as he turns to roll his eyes at Rhiannon.

"Think of Flynn" Rhiannon implores but Ianto turns on the blender, drowning out Rhiannon's voice.

Jack looks at Ianto coolly. He stares at him petulantly, then turns off the blender.

"Do you know he's got the phones bugged?" Ianto demands, throwing his arms into the wall.

"Oh Jesus, Jack."

"Maybe he gets off listening to my calls. All that heavy breathing..." Ianto deadpans.

"What do you want from my life?" Smith demands,

"I want some peace around here." Ianto wails.

"That's right." Spector huffs with folded arms.

Smith looks at Jack imploringly.

"We're almost done." Jack assures him.

"And I want to be able to eat brunch with my friends." Ianto snaps, slamming his glass down.

"Go on Tuesday this week." Jack shrugs and Spector looks at him as though he were a Martian.

"Tuesday - morning - brunch." Spector says slowly as if repeating an insult, "Where did you find this guy?"

Ianto turns on the blender and stares at Jack.


	7. revelation

Ianto's limousine is parked opposite the small Second hand shop. It's a decidedly downscale area. A little way off, a group of unemployed youths hang around, eyeing the limo with interest. Henry sits at the wheel. Tony stands by the open window, leaning against the car.

"I wish Ianto didn't keep coming here. It makes me nervous." Henry mutters.

"Me too. 'Cept I'm not nervous 'cos I got you with me." Tony answers ad he checks his watch again.

Ianto is shopping for bargains, moving along racks of discarded clothing.

"Louise, you've got too much great stuff." He enthuses as he plucks another waistcoat our and checks the size on the tag.

Jack leans casually against a wall, not watching Ianto, but watching the shop, watching the street outside.

Ianto finds something he likes. "Wooo! Let me try this on."

He flicks a glance to Jack; he's not looking at him. He pulls back the curtain of the makeshift changing booth, then stops dramatically.

"Harkness, do you want to come in here with me? Just to be safe?" he asks with a dry humour that Jack has come to recognise as hidden annoyance.

Jack glances at him, and then resumes his surveillance of the shop. Ianto's head bobs up and down above the curtain as he changes.

"You probably won't believe this, but I have a reputation for being a bitch." Ianto says conversationally as he pulls on the waistcoat.

Jack says nothing. He gazes outside through the front window and sees Henry and Tony horsing around next to the limo. A few small boys stand around the car. One of them is climbing onto the hood.

"I didn't used to be. But you get known for being a certain way -a way people think you are – and pretty soon you get like that." Ianto says as he glances at Jack, then turns back to the mirror, "Can't help it."

Jack smiles knowingly. Ianto notices.

"You don't think so? You're such an expert on famous people?"

"I've seen a few." Jack shrugs.

"And you disagree?" Ianto snorts.

"You can be as you choose to be." Jack says with finality, "It's an act of discipline sometimes, but it can be done."

Ianto stops in his tracks... then opens the curtains and looks at himself in the mirror. Also reflected in the mirror is Jack.

"That why you never stay with one of your clients? They too undisciplined for you? Or is it you're afraid you'll start to care about them?" Ianto stares at Jack in the glass.

"That's right." Jack says as he checks the vehicle again.

Ianto turns to Jack. "Can't you answer straight just once? Why don't you talk to me? I'm not such a bad boy."

You're too clever for me. I can't keep up." Jack sighs, tiring of the conversation. Jack continues to search the shop and street with his gaze. Ianto steps closer to him.

"Look at me, Harkness!"

Jack turns and looks at him.

"You don't approve of me, do you?" Ianto demands, pulling off the waistcoat.

"Disapproval's a luxury I can't afford. Gets in the way."

"Don't like emotions getting to you, huh? Never mix business with pleasure?" Ianto lets his arms fall as he stares at Jack.

"That's right."

It's a stand-off. After a moment, Ianto motions to an outfit on a rack just behind him. "Grab that would you?"

Jack takes a beat. Looks out the window. "I'm here to keep you alive... not to help you shop."

Fuming, Ianto sizes things up, then grabs it himself, whipping the curtain shut behind him with a diva snort.

A smile plays across Jack's face, he was beginning to like this one.

**.**

**.**

**.**

We see a man's hands remove a video cube from its box. The cover reads "IANTOJONES - THE #1 HITS." The cube is gently eased onto the slot of the video player.

Ianto's image appears on the screen, singing softly, intensely, passionately into the camera.

.

.

.

Jack sits alone in his room, lit by the glow of the TV, dressed in a business-style blue suit and tie. He's watching Ianto's vid-cubes. Scattered around the player are a collection of other Ianto Jones cubes, and holo-pics. Jack has been noting down lyrics on the yellow legal pad on his lap. Some of the phrases are circled.

As he watches, we see a subtle change in his expression. It is as if he really were looking at Ianto for the first time, here, watching him sing. For a second, he seems to be singing to him alone, passionate and vulnerable.

He opens a small box and removes a tiny enamelled Russian pocket watch. He fastens the clasp, checking that it holds, then looks back to the screen.

The room Ianto is standing in is surprisingly bare and simple, almost empty apart from Ianto's collection of old and faded Teddy Bears on the shelves and on the bed. Ianto is getting dressed for the evening. A hairdresser stands behind him, fussing with his hair. Ianto hears the music coming from outside and moves to the window. Gazing across the garden, he sees the light in Jack's room and hears his own voice singing out from there too.

He ponders this as he rolls the glass in his hand.

.

.

.

Jack is showing Henry how to check the underside of the limo with an angled mirror on a stick. Both are crouched beside the vehicle. A noise makes them look up. Ianto, dressed to the nines and looking very sexy, emerges from the house with Spector and Smith. Spector's carrying a vid-cube that he throws into the air, then catches. Tony follows as they head for the car, where Jack and Henry are waiting. Flynn stands in the doorway, flanked by uniformed security guards. He waves at Jack.

"I thought it was dinner." Jack hisses to Henry as he waves back at the child.

Henry shrugs.

"Are we going somewhere else?"

"The Mayan, Jack." Spector informs him as Ianto folds gracefully into the vehicle.

"What's the Mayan?" Jack asks as Spector starts to climb into the limo with Ianto climbing back out.

"It's a club, Jack. Come on, Henry, let's go."

"Spector, you've got to tell me about these things." Jack growls ignoring Ianto.

"I just did." He disappears inside the limo.

Ianto tugs at Jack's lapels, looks him up and down, brushing something off his shoulder. Jack's annoyed.

"Nice suit, Jack." Ianto is about to get in.

"Ianto." He removes something from his pocket, a small enamelled pocket watch. "I want you to keep this."

Ianto looks at it, both flattered and confused. "For me? It's beautiful."

"It's fitted with a radio transmitter. When you close the clasp, it sends a signal. If there's ever a problem and we're separated, just press it and I'll know you need me." Jack shrugs as he demonstrates and Ianto notices his strong fingers as they deftly manipulate the catch.

Ianto doesn't know how to respond. He's lost for words.

Spector pokes his head out impatiently. "Okay, he knows how it works, let's get going."

Ianto manages a quick smile to Jack as he gets in the back. Jack gets in the front beside Tony. The limo pulls out.

_**You're listening to K.R.O.K., the rock of L.A. and yes we have. We told you we'd crack the case of the mystery guest... and if you are one of the few who hasn't heard, it's Ianto at the Mayan.** _

Jack turns up the volume.

_**Ianto Jones, tonight, appearing Billy Thomas' very special guest. But if you don't have a ticket, you can forget going down there. Police are asking**   _ _**us to ask you to stay away. So everybody, please stay cool, stay tuned and we'll try to get you some interviews after the show. Remember, you heard it**   _ _**here on K.R.O.K. - the station that delivers.** _

Jack looks back at Spector who silently mouths -It wasn't me.

The car turns a corner and there it is, The Mayan only fifty yards ahead, a mob of fans spilling out of the club, off the sidewalk and into the street.

"Fuckin' a." Tony huffs.

Spector whoops with uncontrolled delight from the back of the limo. Jack stares ahead in disbelief. The roar of the crowd can be heard as they pull up front.

The mob reacts to the sight of the approaching limo which turns into the parking area and heads for the backstage. Faces of the fans are at the windows leering at Ianto.

Many are grotesquely painted. Some go into a wild frenzy as Ianto's limo pulls up. There is a punch-up and a man is beaten back. Someone has a video camera. Its quartz light shines in through the limo windows. Everybody squints at the glare.

As Ianto's car pulls up, the beaten man dances at the curb with blood streaming from his nose. A pair of security guards try to hold them back. As his limo stops, a chant begins.

"Ianto! Ianto! We want Ianto!"

Others join in as the mob presses forward.

The instant he exits the car, his expression goes public - a wide, showbiz smile. Sandwiched between Spector and Smith, with Tony in front and Jack at the rear, Ianto makes his entrance.

A young woman breaks the barrier moving toward Ianto.

Jack grabs her by one of her belt loops, gracefully guides her all the way across and slips her under the opposite cordon into the arms of a security guard.

Ianto steps into a room set for a star's arrival.

Flowers are on every surface that will hold them. One huge arrangement is so big it has to be placed on the floor. Jack checks them all with a PDA before letting Ianto sit down. He goes out, closing the door, watchful.

Ianto sits in front of the mirror putting on the silver headpiece he was shown earlier. He notices a small spray of lilies-of-the-valley among the floral arrangements. An envelope marked "Ianto" is attached to it. He reaches forward and opens it.

We see the note as he unfolds it.

**JONES BITCH - YOU HAVE EVERYTHING**

**I HAVE NOTHING - PREPARE YOUR SOUL**

**FOR DEATH - THE TIME TO DIE IS...**

We see the shock in his face.


	8. over the edge

Spector, Jack, and Smith are there. Ianto seems dazed, unfocussed. Smith hands the note to Jack.

"He sent another one."

Ianto immediately picks up on this.

"What do you mean 'another one'?" he demands.

Jack quickly shoots a look at Spector.

"They didn't tell you." Jack sighs with exasperation.

"Tell me what?" Ianto splutters looking around the room at his so called security.

"There were some letters before, Ianto... same kind of thing, threats, oddball stuff..." Smith stutters and looks to Spector.

"We didn't want to worry you..." Spector pats his arm like he is a small child.

"... and somebody got into the house..." Smith says softly as Jack grimaces.

"Someone was in my house?" Ianto screeches.

"Okay. Let's not get hysterical..." Spector says with authority.

"Let's get him out of here." Jack pulls Ianto to his feet.

"Someone was in my house?" Ianto repeats as he finds himself reaching for Jack's comfort.

"It was weeks ago. You were out of town..." Spector soothes as he frowns at Jack.

"While Flynn was there?" Ianto gapes as Jack's arms start to move him forward.

"Listen, Flynn is okay. The house is like Fort Knox now." Smith assures him, "Right, Jack?"

"We should get him out of here." Jack demands, "Right now!"

"There's no way anyone could..." Smith begins.

"No way anyone could what?" Ianto stops walking as he turns to glare at Smith.

"No, wait... look everybody calm … the … fuck…" Spector shouts, his arms flapping. "…down. Calm down."

"Sy." Smith warns as Ianto bristles.

"Let's just see how he is." Spector said, "How do you feel, honey?"

Ianto blinks as he is pulled from Jack's warmth into the room and they all look at him as Jack sighs.

Someone comes through the door with some flowers. Jack eases them out and gently closes the door.

"I can't protect him out there." Jack says softly, almost apologetically as Ianto turns to face him.

"Do you think he's out there?" Ianto asks with wide eyes, Smith can't answer.

He turns to Jack. "He's here, isn't he?"

"He might be." Jack says softly.

"We don't know that. Jack, we don't know that." Spector argues.

Ianto is enraged. "But you know he was in my house...oh my God.

"Let's go home, Sy. We'll have to make an announcement." Smith offers as he watches Ianto stepping closer to Jack.

"Fine, you make it, they'll tear the fucking place apart." Spector snorts.

A lone mike stands onstage. The crowd's growing impatient. Smith walks timidly onstage. He's not happy to be there. He reaches the mike and taps it with a finger.

"Excuse me... hello... I've got an announcement to make. I'm sorry but... due to circumstances beyond..."

Voices shout. "Where's Ianto?"... a groan begins. A chorus of boos fills the room. He raises his hands.

More voices.

"Jack guides Ianto toward the stage exit. A roar from the audience begins. "Ianto! Ianto! Ianto!" It grows louder as they near the exit. Ianto's expression is a combination of fear and humiliation. When they have lmost reached the exit, he stops.

"Wait..." Ianto gasps, clutching at Jack's arm as he twists to look back.

"Ianto... don't do it. It's not worth it..." Jack begs but Ianto interrupts.

"No fucking freak is gonna chase me off stage." he pulls away from him. Harkness starts after him, closely followed by Spector.

"I'm afraid that..." Smith is simpering when a great rush of applause from the audience. Smith's befuddled. He doesn't see Ianto walking up behind him. "Ianto won't be able..."

Ianto stands beside him beaming. He bows. Claps back To his fans. Smith retreats. Ianto gestures in his direction.

"Mickey Smith, ladies and gentlemen, thanks Mickey. Hey, everyone. Hello! Isn't Mickey the greatest. He's asked me to sing a song. I hope you don't mind."

The crowd roars its approval.

Jack nervously scans the room. Ianto smiles and moves along the stage. His song begins. Masking obvious fear, he starts to sing. As he takes one hand from the microphone, his fingers tremble. He clasps it again to hide his anxiety.

Ianto is Alone and vulnerable, bathed in light, centre stage.

Ianto snatches a quick glance at Jack then looks back to his silent audience.

Jack scans the audience intensely, scanning from face to face.

Ianto's limo stands waiting. In the streetlight a black Toyota is parked among the other cars.

"Ianto approaches the end of his song, his voice coming ever stronger. Spector comes up to Jack in the wings, positioning himself combatively between Jack and his view of Ianto.

"Are we having a communications problem here?" Spector demands.

"What?" Jack asks with obvious confusion, Spector's presence is a distraction. Jack steps to oneside for a better view of Ianto. Spector moves too.

"Apparently, I didn't make it clear to you how things go around here."

"You told me you were going to tell him. And you didn't." Jack turned to face him.

"I didn't think he could handle it." Spector says.

"But he handled it fine." Jack continues to peer past Spector's shoulder, his vigilance undiminished. Soothed and nurtured by the obvious admiration of his audience, Ianto's fear is beginning to vanish. The song is taking over. Spector changes tack, becoming confidential, "man-to-man."

"Look. Jack, I know what you're saying. I know you want to do what's best for him. I understand that. You have a job to do here. But you have to understand that Ianto has a job to do too. And that's what he's doing – out there. He's working, Jack. That's what he does and that's where he does it. He's hot right now. This is the time for him. If he doesn't get out there, he's dead. Forget about crazy death threats, if he doesn't sing, he's dead anyway... Look, handled properly, this thing could be good for a million dollars' worth of free publicity."

Jack grabs him by the collar and slams him up against a wall of curtain ropes.

"One word." Jack snarls.

"It could clinch him the nomination." Spector whines, scrabbling at the hand around his throat.

"One word in print about any of this..." Jack warns with a raised finger from the other hand.

Spector nods, half-gasping.

Jack tightens his grip.

Jack's attention is drawn by a renewed roar from the crowd.

"Trouble with you is you don't understand the sympathy vote." Spector whines.

Ianto scans the crowd, spread before him like a surreal mural. He feels almost sea sick as they undulate. Camera flashbulbs explode like crazy through the glare. The thundering adoration is like a stimulant. He darts a look to Jack and gives him a fierce "naughty boy" smile.

"You like that?" Ianto calls out with glee, "Would like to hear another? Mickey?"

From the wings, Mickey gives him the nod to go for it. It seems to be alright with everyone. The band starts playing a dance beat.

"I think my feet are trying to tell me something... wanna see a new video?" Ianto crows as he starts to grove.

The crowd explodes. They know what song is coming.

They start to move with Ianto.

"I want to dance..." he skitters to the other side of the stage, baiting the fans. His new video explodes across the video wall behind him. The crowd surges forward.

Two security guards nervously tense up, watching the crowd. When one fan tries to climb onstage, Jack reaches out and unbalances him, so that the man falls back into the audience. Another woman climbs the stage on the other side. One of the guards darts out like a ball boy at a tennis match, pushes the fan back and scurries to the far side to resume his vigilance. The crowd is getting even more excited, pressing closer, trying to touch Ianto.

The security guards move in, but Ianto gestures for them to back off.

Jack's task has suddenly become impossible. A forest of hands and faces start to engulf Ianto. Anyone could be the killer. Jack's eyes dart over them all, his gaze intense, as if trying to hold them off by sheer willpower.

Looking offstage at Jack, Ianto feels something in his gut. His frustration is almost intoxicating He struts over the lip of the stage. A man leaps up from audience to join him. Jack starts forward. Ianto gestures to him to hold back, waving him off.

"Spector stands well out of Jack's reach, staring at Ianto onstage. He catches Jack's attention, yelling back defiantly. "Look at him, fucking great."

Ianto dances erotically with the man - bumping and grinding, sinking to his knees. The crowd roars approval.

Jack quickly sizes up the scene. He speaks into a SURV KIT microphone in his sleeve. Across the room we see Henry listening, pushing an earpiece to his ear. Henry quickly scurries to an exit.

Jack starts moving toward the stage. At that moment, the lucky man Ianto's dancing with grabs him around the waist and spins him gleefully, like the dance partner he has been pretending to be. One of security guards rushes forward to extricate him. The spinning man inadvertently bumps hard into the guard and the man loses his grip on Ianto.

Ianto flies out of his grasp and tumbles off the front of the stage - into the adoring arms of a half dozen fans.

The audience goes wild. This is the kind of thing Ianto was famous for when he was starting out. The scene resembles a rugby scrum... with Ianto the ball.

Jack sees Ianto being passed over the heads of fans - deeper into the audience. His shirt is ripped and torn apart. The silver headpiece is dislodged and disappears into the crowd.

Fear fills his face. He's gone over the edge, literally and figuratively. He's lost control.


	9. clutch

Tony and the security guards are fighting to get to him, slamming bodies out of the way. In the background, the video continues on its serene, uninterrupted way.

Jack spots a fire extinguisher in the wings.

Jack grabs it and heads to centre stage. He aims the extinguisher at the crowd between Ianto and the stage. The chemical foam does its job, scattering fans. Jack leaps onto the floor, kicking a wild-eyed young blonde man in the chest as he fights his way to Ianto, taking him in his arms. Tony runs ahead of Jack, knocks a fan off the stage and waves for Jack to follow.

"Tony, not there." Jack yells frantically.

"I'll take care of this." He heads for the door. "Just follow me."

He turns and heads out to the sidewalk like a bull.

Jack's voice calling his name follows faintly.

Tony bursts out the front door and begins cutting a path through the crowd. Rain beats down.

"Make way here. Outta the way!"

A burly street regular gets a shove from Tony and comes back hard. The crowd immediately sides with him, yells encouragement. But Tony is the better man and sends him sprawling. The rest of the way to the curb opens up. At the parking area Tony discovers there is no limo and turns in bewilderment to Ianto. But he is not there.

A couple of people laugh.

Ianto and Jack emerge from the darkness between two garbage bins and get into the limo Henry has waiting there. The car moves out with a squeal of tires, narrowly missing Spector as he staggers out of the building.

"Hey! What the fuck... Harkness!" Spector yells at the retreating brake lights, " Harkness! Come back here..."

The limo skids around the corner and speeds off up the street, leaving Spector in helpless fury - apoplectic and speechless.

Jack turns and looks at Ianto. He is demure, shell-shocked, and alone in the centre of the large limousine seat. His hands rise to his face and his body begins to shake with sobs as he sits there alone in the tattered remains of his clothes.

Jack draws him onto his arms and tries to soothe him, rubbing his hands up and down the thin back as Ianto mewls into his neck.

"It's OK baby, it's OK" Jack crooned, rocking him as they speed though the night.

The feathery kiss against his neck has Jack's eyes fluttering shut as Ianto finally gives in and relaxes in his arms.

Henry senses what is going on and speaks softly. "Never done that before."

"It's been a long night." Jack murmurs as Ianto starts to breathe deeply, falling asleep.

**.**

**.**

**.**

The auditorium is a mess; the cleaning crew has begun to work on the debris from the riot. Black sneakers, walking, pausing, as if looking for something.

Lying on the floor is a small fragment of Ianto's shirt. A hand picks it up. The feet move on.

.

.

.

Flynn is asleep in his bed. Jack waits as Ianto glances in. Then he moves away. Opening the door to his room, he steps back, allowing him to enter ahead.

"Jack moves quickly into the room, checking the window and French doors. Ianto waits silently by the door. All is clear. He steps back to the door. As he approaches him he begins to tremble.

He gently reaches out and takes him in his arms. Slowly holding him he leads him to bed, moving aside some of Ianto's teddies, laid out on the pillows.

His hands go automatically to his tattered shirt but they are shaking so badly he cannot undo it. Jack gently does it for him. He willingly allows him to undress him and not a word is spoken between them. As he sits naked still trembling, Jack pulls down the covers and guides him gently into bed.

As he adjusts the covers Ianto reaches up and takes hold of his hand. He looks down, stroking his forehead like a child's.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I behave like that?" Ianto whispers.

"I know why." Jack whispers as he leans in, kissing Ianto softly.

Ianto sighs and his eyes flutter shut as Jack settles on top of the bedding, an arm protectively thrown across the young man as he hums softly.

Ianto snorts as he recognises one of his own lullabies and then relaxes into the warmth of the man beside him.

He is asleep within minutes.

.

.

.

Jack sits alone at a table in the huge kitchen, carefully cutting and eating a peach. The door at the other end of the room slams open and Tony stalks in, soaking wet.

He has just made his way home from the Mayan and he is boiling. He sights on Jack and moves toward him fast.

Jack just watches until Tony is almost upon him. As Tony reaches out to lift him by his shirt, Jack spins low out of his seat. Tony's legs are knocked out from under him. He lands hard on his back and finds himself looking up at Jack, who holds him down with the chair he was sitting on, like a lion tamer, a leg strut pressed against Tony's throat. Jack looks down at him questioningly, as if to ask, "Had enough?"

Tony scowls and nods. Jack lifts the chair away. Tony stands up and faces him. Jack turns away and Tony throws a punch at his head, barely catching him as Jack ducks and moves in under it. He hits Tony twice and throws him against a cabinet. Tony gets up slowly, looks around and grabs a carving knife from a hook on the wall.

He holds it in front of him threateningly.

Jack shakes his head. He's getting irritated.

He picks up the knife he's been using on the peach and flips it in his hand so he's holding it by the blade. With the same fluid motion we've seen earlier, he throws it at Tony.

It sticks in the wall an inch from Tony's ear. Tony does a slow take and then lowers his blade. Jack picks up his dirty dish and takes it to the sink. He glances at Tony.

"I don't want to talk about this again."

.

.

.

Jack has been talking to the uniformed guard in the gatehouse and now begins walking up the drive toward the mansion.

The grounds are quiet, beautiful, and misty.

We see him from behind some foliage, as if he's being covertly observed, stalked. A twig snaps and he turns sharply. It's Ianto. He's dressed in a soft pale blue jumpsuit and starts jogging out from behind the bushes towards him.

The suit softens his appearance; he looks lovely. His manner, too, has altered; he is charming - friendly and very childlike. "Hey! Gotcha, didn't I?"

"Hey." Ianto grins, "You're probably wondering what I'm doing. You didn't know I jogged, did you?"

Jack shakes his head.

"What's the matter? Afraid I'll get picked off in my snazzy running suit?" Ianto said with a soft slap at him.

"No. I'm afraid I'll have to jog with you." Jack grimaces and they both smile.

"Great. I guess I can't do it." Ianto stops pumping, gasps for air, and for one moment, rests a hand on Jack's arm to support himself. He removes it quickly.

"Will you walk with me a little?" Ianto asks with a soft blush. Jack nods and they cut off across the grounds.

Ianto seems to be struggling to say something as they walk and Jack waits patiently. Finally he speaks, "I know this is kinda late, but thank you. I'm really glad you're here. I am going to try to cooperate."

"That would be good." Jack smiles and they walk in silence for few moments. When Ianto finally speaks, he sounds genuinely unsure of himself, nervous. It's very appealing. And if it's an act, he's a terrific actor.

"Harkness... I have this problem. This minor little problem. You see, I'd like to go out for an evening. Just me and a girl. You know..." Ianto grimaces as he struggles, "... like a 'date.' But I can't go out on a date because you have to be with me every minute. I mean, what if she invited me up to her place afterwards? Are you going to come, too?"

Jack walks with a look of surprise, Ianto glancing at him furtively as he continues talking, "So the only thing I can figure is for you to take me out."

Jack doesn't miss a step, just keeps walking as he blinks.

"So... that's what I was wondering" Ianto says softly, "... you know. What do you think? But only if you want to."

Jack is bemused.

"Only if you want to... I'm not so bad..." Ianto huffs as he blushes deeply, disarmed by Jack's silence, "God, this is embarrassing. I'm

gonna run up ahead there. You decide."

He runs up the hill to the pool area, which is now above them. Jack walks up after him.

Rhiannon is yelling from a window on the second floor of the mansion. Flynn peers out with her. "Ianto! Sandy Harris is on the phone!"

Ianto and Jack look up.

"Tell her she'll have to wait, babe. I'm getting fixed up here, hopefully."

She watches Jack and Ianto, her expression neutral. She turns away. Flynn continues to watch his Tad with Jack.

Jack offers his arm and Ianto takes it, giggling as Jack helps him over the uneven ground.

With a soft kiss to Jack's cheek, Ianto flees.

His soft giggle lingering, along with his scent.


	10. Date night

At the carwash downtown a wet car comes out of the tunnel of machinery. In the distance, glimpsed through the spinning brushes, Henry talks to a couple of workers as he waits for the limo to be cleaned.

Hands appear with a large chamois cloth, moving easily and fast over the hood and windshield. A Blue Blandeshion in his early twenties is finishing the exterior of the car. A second pair of hands appears. White hands in rubber gloves. They open the driver's door and push a vacuum suction hose inside. The hands turn the radio on, loud. Loud enough to hear over the din outside the car.

The suction hose works its way over the front seats.

_**... And here's another biggie from a Welsh siren very much in the news these days, Mr Ianto Jones...** _

We see the owner of the hands. It is the young blonde man Jack kicked aside at the Mayan. His name tag declares that he is DAN.

His face is impassive.

_**... the hit song from the movie...Queen Of The Night... I Have Nothing.** _

The song begins and Ianto's voice fights the din. In the back of the car, Dan's hose probes around, nosing into all the crevices of the upholstery. It sucks up a crumpled pre-signed photograph of Ianto from the gap beside the rear seat. The hose is switched off and the gloved hands retrieve the picture.

Tight, shabby facilities. Dan opens the combination padlock to his locker and deposits the crumpled photo inside.

As the hands remove the rubber gloves, the inside of the locker is revealed. Pasted over every inch of the locker are pictures of Ianto Jones. One tabloid shot of him dancing with the word "whore" scrawled across it.

Taped to a single sheet of white paper in the centre, like a holy relic, is the torn scrap of Ianto's shirt from the Mayan. The hands pin up the newly acquired photo next to it.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Special Agent Court is seated next to a white-coated technician. The technician is leaning over one of the neatly pasted-up death threats we have seen earlier.

With a scalpel, he lifts the word "whore" from out of the message. He sets it on a white sheet, then brings the blade back and scrapes at the residue of the dry glue on the letter.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jack and Ianto exit with a small crowd. Ianto wears a baseball cap and tinted glasses. The combination goes a long way toward disguising him. They pause at one of the display windows. Inside is a poster for the movie, Yojimbo, a large picture of Toshiro Mifune looking scruffy and fierce.

"Well, he didn't look like he wanted to die to me." Ianto says as he feels Jack's hand enclose his own and he resists the automatic urge to look.

"There's a big difference between wanting to die and having no fear of death." Jack answers as they walk down the sidewalk.

"And because he had no fear of death, he was invincible?" Ianto asks.

"What do you think?" Jack touched his shoulder against Ianto's for a moment.

"Well, he sure creamed 'em all in the end." Ianto smiles.

"Yeah, it was a good movie." Jack smiles back as they walk off down the sidewalk.

"How many times have you seen it?" Ianto asks, glancing at Jack's profile.

"Sixty-two."

**.**

**.**

**.**

"It's a bit of a dive, but the food is good and the atmosphere is great." Jack promises as he motions Ianto towards a door.

"Your kind of place?"

Jack nods.

"Your kinda music?" Ianto asks as he cants his head to listen to the soft rock.

"Absolutely."

"You figure no one can get by you here?" Ianto gives his coat and finally removes the cap, rubbing his hair into a wild mess of soft curls.

"If someone is willing to swap his life for a kill, nothing can stop him." Jack says as he hangs up their things.

"Great. What do I need you for?" Ianto laughs softly.

"He might get me instead." Jack shrugs.

"And you're ready to die for me?" Ianto snorts.

"That's my job."

Ianto looks at him. **"** And you'd do it? Why?"

"I can't sing." Jack tries as he notes Ianto's growing distress.

"Maybe there's some glory in saving a president or something, but just anyone..." Ianto says softly.

"You mean like you? It's a matter of conditioning and discipline."

"I don't trust discipline. At the crucial moment I'd cop out." Ianto admits.

"That happens." Jack agrees.

"But not with you, Fierce Jack." Ianto hugs an arm.

"It happens." Jack repeats.

"Have you ever liked anybody?" Ianto asks suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"Like me – or a girl."

Jack knows what he's driving at. But he's not at all happy to relinquish this information.

"A long time ago."

"What happened? Do you mind if I ask?" Ianto shows surprise.

"Do you mind if I don't answer?"

"I don't want to pry..." Ianto huffs.

Jack smiles at that.

"She didn't die did she? You weren't like... protecting her and she got killed?" Ianto jokes with a soft giggle.

Jack is silent, grim.

Ianto looks stricken.

"Oh, my god! That's it, isn't it?"

"Nobody's perfect" Jack says softly.

Ianto is taken aback.

"Oh Jack, I'm sorry." Ianto's hands cover his mouth.

Jack laughs. "No... Nice try though."

"It was less dramatic than that." He admits, "She didn't love me anymore. Can you imagine such a thing?"

Jack puts a smiling spin on this last comment; it's pretty charming. Ianto looks at him.

"No, not really." Ianto smiles back.

A SONG comes on the radio - 'WHAT BECOMES OF THE BROKEN HEARTED.' Jack smiles as Ianto begins to sing.

"So, is this a full service date, Jack?" Ianto asks after a while.

Jack's wary.

"I'm just asking you to dance." Ianto says, hiding his hurt.

Jack and Ianto navigate a tiny dance floor. Jack is a surprisingly good dancer and is comfortable being this close to him.

Ianto hums softly, picking up the words to the song. As he listens to the lyrics something clicks in his head.

"You like this?" he asks Jack.

"Yeah."

A beat, then Ianto bursts out laughing.

"What?" Jack asks with confusion.

I'm sorry... It's just that..." Ianto snorts, "It's so depressing."

Now they're both laughing.

"It is, isn't it?" Jack laughs, showing a pretty smile for Ianto.

Suddenly a dish drops to the floor. Jack, still dancing, makes a smooth quick turn that puts his body between Ianto and the noise. His head turns to locate the source of the noise.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you." Ianto whispers, leaning in and kissing Jack softly.

They drift back into the music, Ianto singing, Jack watching.


	11. SMUT ALERT

**OK SMUTT ALERT**

Jack's car is parked in his driveway. A light goes on in a basement window.

Jack hangs back, drink in hand, as Ianto explores the basement. Jack has fitted it out as a combination gym/target range/weapons workshop. The place has a kind of unfussy order about it, simplicity.

"It's very quiet here." Ianto whispers as he walks to some shelves - a random selection of books, football and karate trophies, framed citations

and other memorabilia. He glances at a dusty framed photo of a football team.

West Virginianotia University Football.

"God, look at you." he looks at Jack, quizzically. "What'd you play?"

"End." Jack says as he approaches and offers a glass of amber liquid.

"Were you tough?" Ianto asks taking a sip and looking Jack up and down, like he was trying to picture him in the uniform.

"No. Fast." Jack says softly, stepping back.

Ianto puts down his drink and moves toward a samurai sword that is mounted in its scabbard on the wall. He looks at it, peering closely. "You some kind of a samurai, too?"

Jack smiles.

"They said you were in the Secret Service. What made you get out?" Ianto asks, turning to face him again and Jack smells that unique scent he hasn't been able to escape lately.

Judging by the way Ianto licks his lips, he scents it too.

Jack moves away and sits on a sofa against the wall. "Money."

Ianto looks around at Jack's modest home.

"I can see your tastes are extravagant." Ianto quips as he looks at Jack and then back at the sword. He reaches out to touch it. "May I?"

Jack nods. Ianto takes it off its mount carefully, unhooks the scabbard and begins to slide it out.

"Watch yourself." Jack warns as the blade whispers it's intent.

Ianto slides the scabbard off. The naked blade is breathtaking. Ianto holds the sword out before him. He walks toward Jack, then stops and looks over the blade at him.

"You're a hard one to figure, Jack Harkness."

He stares at Ianto and he steps closer, so the blade is only about a foot from his face.

"It seems to me a bodyguard must know little peace." Ianto whispers as they stand close enough to touch.

Jack leans so that the point of the sword is only about an inch from his chest. He reaches out over the blade to Ianto's neck and unties the silk scarf he is wearing there. One hand draws the scarf away. The other hand lingers for a moment on his neck, then lifts away.

Both men tremble slightly at the loss of sensation.

"Watch this." Jack commands.

He has raised the scarf over his head, in the space between them. With two hands he spreads it out and then lets it go. Slowly, billowing, the scarf floats down over the blade and is cut in two. These two pieces float slowly to the floor.

Jack takes Ianto's wrist and moves the sword away to the side. They are both holding it as Ianto presses his body against Jack's and they begin to kiss.

An unfurling of passion, like a bloom opening to face the sun, Ianto softens and drops his mask along with his clothes as he shakes with naked anticipation.

Jack runs his hands over those pale arms, feeling muscle as well as goose bumps even though it is warm in his quarters.

"Ianto" he whispers, watching the flawless skin color in an upper body flush that betrays Ianto's desire.

Jack licks his lips and Ianto leans in, tasting those plump sweets he has craved all night.

"Jack" he replies, pushing their bodies together, their erections sliding against each other with a velvety kiss of their own.

Pre-cum slicks between them and Jack swallows as Ianto's heavily lidded eyes seem to drink in his very soul.

"Gods" Jack sighs, finally forced to admit that this is no longer a game.

If it ever was.

Their erections bump against each other's hips as Jack slides his hands around that pert waist and down surprisingly plump hips so the love-heart butt cheeks nestle in his hands.

Jack squeezes softly, enjoying the feel as well as the small sound Ianto makes in the back of this throat.

Shit.

It was a damned potent smell, permeating their senses and Ianto grunts as their bodies come together, rubbing and sliding together with excited need.

"I'm not able to wait much longer" Ianto whimpers and Jack curses, lifting Ianto by his hips and throwing him back on the bed.

Ianto's laugher bounces off the walls as he lays wanton with a raised eyebrow.

Jack's laugher is a warm echo as he clambers on top of him, gently plastering himself on the object of his desire.

"It's been a while" Jack whispers as he nervously strokes Ianto's cheek.

"Would you believe it has been for me as well?" Ianto answers, looking deeply into those eyes that are several shades darker than his own, "Not since Flynn's mother. I've been too …."

Ianto seems to struggle for the words and Jack leans in, sucking at his tongue to release whatever may be on the tip of it.

"…afraid" is whispered as those eyes become fully hooded for a moment, Ianto's discomfort more naked than his body.

Jack hesitates, and then makes a decision as he captures that mouth, rendering Ianto mute.

No more need for words, explanations or questions.

Jack's fingers find the Holy Grail as Ianto throws his head back and cries softly, Jack using the other hand to stroke the wonderful shaft Ianto wantonly displays with his splayed legs.

Then Jack rises and impales himself as Ianto gasps with delight, his hands finding Jack's hips to urge him on.

Jack rides his own Welsh dragon as Ianto grinds his teeth and bucks wildly, overcome with emotions and sensations.

Jack feels the tide rising, threatening to drown them both as he gasps for more oxygen, those fingers having slid around to find his rod demanding attention.

Like using a joy stick to navigate, Ianto is controlling Jack now as they both fill the room with noise.

The riding rhythm was uniquely perfect to both of them, no words needed as they move in unison towards the cliff.

They fall.


	12. morning after

They lie nude under a sheet.

"I've never been this safe before." Ianto sighs as he snuggles and Jack smiles. "No one could get by you."

"Right now it might not be so hard." Jack huffs as he tries to move his limp limbs.

Ianto laughs, kisses him and buries his head down into his shoulder. Jack stares across the bed at the samurai sword lying on the floor. Some of Ianto's clothing is draped in a heap across it. The torn pieces of the scarf lie nearby.

"Tell me something" Jack whispers as he rubs a smooth back.

Ianto hums in question.

"The pink car" Jack says as he squeezes and Ianto laughs.

"Sy's idea. Another bloody photo shoot" Ianto confesses as he looks into Jacks eyes, "I hate the bloody thing."

They drift in the warmth of the embrace, Ianto's sigh matching the exhale from Jack.

.

.

.

The roller-blind is raised with a sharp, snapping sound. Jack is moving around the room, getting dressed. Ianto is still in the bed behind him, woken by the noise of his activity.

"What? What is it? What are you doing?" Ianto says with honest confusion as he looks around sleepily.

Jack keeps moving, looking for his shoes.

"Jack?"

"Ianto, I don't want to get confused about what I'm doing here." Jack doesn't look at him as he briskly moved about.

"I'm not confused." Ianto frowns.

Jack finds his shoes.

"You pay me to protect you, that's what I do."

Ianto sits up. "What? Have I done something wrong?"

"No, nothing." Jack huffs as he brushes his jacket with his hand.

"Then what is it?" Ianto asks as he lifts the sheet seductively and looks over the top of it. **"** Do you want me to beg?"

"No, I want you to do without." Jack stops and Ianto freezes.

"What's going on, Jack?"

"I want to keep it straight in my head what job I'm doing." Jack repeats as his hands shake, he covers this by brushing the jacket again.

"And what is that exactly? Making me feel like shit?"

"No, I'm sorry. This is my fault." Jack now has his holster in his hands.

"Don't apologize for godsake. Just tell me what I did. I'm a big boy." Ianto is starting to bristle with hurt.

"You didn't do anything. It was me." Jack shrugs, "I involved myself with my client."

Ianto picks up on the word. **"** Your "client"?"

"I made a mistake."

"What mistake?... You don't find me attractive anymore." Ianto takes a deep breath.

"Christ! I've told you why. I can't protect you like this." Jack shouts as he throws the gun down.

"And what?" Ianto says softly. "That's it for me?"

"Yeah..."

"I don't believe it. One quick shag and I'm done?"

Jack retrieves the gun he just threw with a look of abject misery. He automatically checks the gun as he slips it into the holster. "You can live with that or you can fire me."

"But I can't fuck you."

Jack turns and looks at him. This is hard for him, too.

"I don't believe this...I'm asking you?... Let me tell you..." Ianto stops suddenly and, with a roar of combined frustration, humiliation and rage, he lurches from the bed in search of his clothes. Jack shuts his eyes in mortification and pain.

.

.

.

A nanny sits in the early morning mist, embroidering.

Jack is kneeling with Flynn beside the pool. He's putting new batteries into Flynn's boat. Flynn watches him as he tears off the wrapping from the batteries, preoccupied.

"He's real mad at you, isn't he?" Flynn says softly and Jack stops what he's doing and just looks blankly at the batteries in his hands.

There's a beat of silence.

"He told me he doesn't understand why you're so shitty to him..."

Jack's shoulders droop and he lets out an imperceptible sigh. He gently resumes fitting the batteries, still not looking at Flynn. In the quiet of early morning, it's almost like a confessional.

"I've spent a lot of time learning not to react to things like other people do. It's my job. But it doesn't always work, Flynn..." Jack struggles for a moment to find the right words, "it doesn't always work."

"I don't think I understand." Flynn frowns.

"I'm an old man compared to you, pal, and I don't understand either. And I'm starting to get the feeling I never will." Jack confesses and there's a crunch of footsteps behind him. He looks around.

With a big flourish, a copy of Daily Variety is put down, front page upwards.

Jack takes in that its Rhiannon then glances at Galaxy Variety, lying on the concrete beside him. Splashed across the top, the headlines announce the day's news of the Academy Award nominations. Ianto's name is among the Best Actor nominees. The Hollywood Reporter follows.

Jack picks it up and stares at it. Rhiannon stands beside him with the morning's mail under her arm.

"Thought you'd like to know." Rhiannon says haughtily, "Everyone said he was a sure thing. Of course, you know all about that."

She raises an eyebrow, gives him a look. Jack looks steadily back at her.

She drops a small pile of mail beside the magazines... several letters and a small packet. She's embarrassed by Jack's gaze.

"I'm sorry. That was out of line." She sighs, "It's none of my business... Here's today's question marks for you."

She turns and walks briskly back to the house. Jack watches her go, then looks slowly down to the pile. From across the pool, Flynn watches silently, and then pushes his boat out into the deep water as Jack hurries off with the mail under his arm.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jack is investigating the small packet, with a surgeon's precision, checking it with a stethoscope and a metal detector, sniffing at it.

It has been addressed in the normal way, except that Ianto's name has been cut out of a magazine and pasted above the address. He begins carefully slicing away the wrapping. Inside is a cardboard box. The contents are still hidden by packing paper. He picks it away with tweezers.

Suddenly there is a whirring sound from the box and movement in the paper.

Jack drops the box into a bed of sand in a sink surrounded by sandbags.

The movement slows and stops. Jack extracts the item –

It is a wind-up mechanical beaver with a hand-painted sign hung around its neck:

**WE LOVE YOU, IANTO**

**YOUR FANS IN BEAVER, PA.**

**SALLY AND KATE.**

The beaver's mouth moves into a smile in Jack's hand.

This may just have taken years off his life. He holds his hand out straight, palm downwards, and looks at it.

No tremor.

Just checking.

.

.

.

Jack is still considering the mess he had gotten into as Ianto's scent seems to be everywhere.

He pauses at the sun lounger to imagine Ianto laying there, sipping his drink.

Spector's voice suddenly shouts from the next door office. "Harkness! Get in here!"

The office is filled with congratulatory balloons and flowers heralding the morning's news. Spector's secretary is taking congratulatory phone messages.

Two assistants are struggling in through the door with a large floral arrangement.

Spector confronts Jack across his desk.

"Put together a list of your expenses. Your total billing... Let me have it in one hour and I'll see that a check is cut."

"Don't you ever say what's on your mind?" Jack snorts as he realizes what is happening.

He is being fired.


	13. bravado

What's on my mind is that you're fired, Jack." Spector yells angrily, "He missed all his interviews yesterday because of your little date. Do you realize he stood up Oprah Walters?"

"First you fuck up his career..."

Behind Spector, out of his line of sight, Ianto and Smith appear in the doorway with more cards.

They also stop and listen.

"... and now you're fucking with his head."

"That's between us." Jack growls.

"You think so? You forget who signs your check. You don't understand the role I play around here." Spector leers.

"No. I understand." Jack leans over the desk menacingly.

Spector stiffens, and then decides not to take this one on. "Get your shit together and be out of here by noon."

"Jack stays." Mickey barks and Spector looks round, sees that Smith and Ianto have been listening.

Ianto is silent.

With a curt nod of his head, Spector gestures to the assistants to leave the room.

Smith weighs in. "With this high a profile, Ianto needs protection now more than ever. If he goes, you can forget Miami…"

"He's signed the fucking contract, Mick. You want me to read it to you?" Spector snarls.

Ianto is watching them both.

"Fuck the contract. If he goes, Ianto's not singing a note. It's too dangerous."

"Oh. 'Fuck the contract.' Great." Spector snorts and then waves a hand in Ianto's direction, "Why don't you let Ianto speak for himself? I think he has some say in this."

"Jack stays." Ianto's voice is flat. Cold.

Spector considers him for a beat, then looks at the others.

The secretary interrupts from the back of the office. "Mr. Schiller calling on line one..."

Spector ignores her, still holding his look at Smith, Ianto and Jack.

"Well, I guess this is democracy in action."

Ianto nods. Spector, turning to take the call, flashes him a "sad little boy" look. "I gave in. That's not easy for me. Don't I get a hug?"

Ianto is stone-faced. Spector covers by picking up the phone. "Yeah?... sure, put him on... Ben how are you?... uh huh..."

Jack and Ianto look at each other in silence.

"...The Ambassador? What the hell are you trying to pull, Ben? Ianto always gets the Presidential... I don't care what you thought..."

Smith leans to Jack as Spector's conversation continues, "Do you know the Fontainebleau Hotel on the Miami Beach Planet?"

Jack nods.

"How does the Ambassador Suite compare to the Presidential for us?" Smith asks.

Jack thinks only for a moment.

"It's on the twentieth floor in the south wing. There's a service elevator right there. Mainly ocean windows. Should be no problem."

"... I'm aware of that, Ben, but let me just remind you people that you invited us..." Spector is in full flight as Jack turns toward the door.

"Hang around, Harkness. We might need your expertise." Ianto demands as he reaches forward and hits a button on Spector's desk, throwing the call onto a speaker.

"Hello, Ben honey." Ianto says with syrupy sweetness.

"Ianto, congratulations, you must be thrilled at the..."

"Ben. I hear you've got me in the annex next to the kitchen." Ianto shuts him off mid sentence, showing his anger.

Jack feels his eyebrows raise with surprise as Ianto's eyes meet his.

**.**

**.**

**.**

The Presidential Suite.

Jack looks up at the disappearing hovercraft then down over the edge and around the corner. He leans slightly against the wrought iron railing. It sways precariously.

Jack catches himself.

Jack kneels and inspects the fixture that anchors it to the cement balcony: the cement crumbles around it; a weld joint is broken on the side. Billis, the hotel security chief, joins Jack on the balcony.

Jack shakes the railing.

"Goddamn. I'll get someone right on it." Billis sighs.

Jack walks quickly across the living room of the lavish suite. Two uniformed security guards are making a sweep of the room with PDAs. Jack checks the drawer of a side table and then seals it with a peel-off security tape.

Billis is waiting near the entrance hall.

Jack nods to him. "Okay. Let's go."

This is a semi-private corridor; several hotel employees are steam-cleaning the carpet. Jack looks at them, then Billis.

"It's okay, they've been cleared." He shows his clipboard to Jack.

As the two men walk along the corridor, the guest elevator opens and a twelve-year-old boy in a bathing suit steps out, accompanied by his nanny. In the background, hotel security men are checking fire-extinguishers and closets.

"The Katzes of St. Louis quadrant. Very prominent. Come every year. An elderly couple and three grandchildren. A nurse and a maid." He hisses to Jack and they pass the little boy as he reaches the door of the Katz suite with his nanny.

"Hi, Mark." Billis smiles at the boy who turns to address him.

"Hi."

Jack smiles and nods to the nanny.

"Theirs is the only suite on the floor." Billis informs him as the two men reach the service elevator and the emergency exit door at the end of the hall. Jack opens the stairway door and goes inside.

Billis follows.

"As you asked, the rooms below have been kept vacant."

Jack and Billis walk down into and along the edge of the busy kitchen.

Jack walks ahead of Billis. He looks around and pauses at the edge of the stage. Then he steps out on a stage. A piano tuner is at work in the corner.

Jack stands centre stage and looks around. The nakedness of this spot gets to him. He shakes his head and looks at Billis.

Billis smiles.

"What a silly job this is." Jack confides with a shake of his head.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Behind the glass doors of the lobby that lead to the pool, bright quartz lights clock on. A camera crew stands waiting.

Someone mimes a "we're rolling" sign with his hands.

Inside Ianto waits with Spector and Oprah Walters, accompanied by the tough, fat fellow who owns the place. Jack is at his elbow.

"O.K. Ianto. It's show time!" Spector pats Ianto's arm, "They're rolling. Let's go."

"Is this really necessary?" Jack asks under his breath as he sees Ianto's discomfort.

"Yes. It is." Spector snaps.

"Quit bitching, Harkness. This is the part you do get paid for." Ianto says snidely, and then Ianto sweeps out the door. The camera crew hurries to keep up with him.

This place is crowded with hundreds of guests basking on chaise lounges. A sea of sun-baked faces virtually as far as the eye can see. The sight of the crowd and the presence of the news crew seem to push Ianto to a whole new adrenaline level.

Ianto walks among them, moving swiftly, evaluating the bodies displayed before him in words and expressions, playing to the camera.

"Oh my God. Look what they're wearing. Mother, hide your eyes..." he gushes as heads turn to look. "I couldn't wear that suit... Honey, you're naked... Of course, if I had a body like that..."

There is a murmur of recognition from some of the guests.

He pauses to shake a hand, and now all the guests throughout the pool area are aware that Ianto Jones is among them.

People stand on chairs, scramble for pens and paper, run to get a closer look. Lounges collapse, drinks are smashed, and flower tubs are trampled. A lot of pushing and shoving starts - too much for the video crew, who abandon the filming attempt.

"Great babe. They got what they needed. Let's get back inside."

Jack increases his pace to keep by Ianto's side, gently easing a path for him. Schiller scurries behind in Jack's wake.

Ianto turns suddenly as a tall good-looking lifeguard appears in the throng. He eyes him appreciatively. "You look like a man of good taste to me. Come to my party tonight. Ben, make sure this boy gets to my party."

Schiller nods.

Ianto glances at Jack, making sure he gets the point, and then he's off again.

The throng gets tighter.

Jack's having to work harder, steering him towards the door back into the hotel. The familiar chant starts up: "Ianto, Ianto."

It's starting to resemble the frenzy of the opening scene. This time, amid the thrusting hands and clamouring faces, a few bewildered elderly guests look dazed as they are shoved forward.

A child starts crying, lost in the mess of legs and Bermuda shorts. A distraught mother tries to reach him.

Someone is jostled into the pool as the crowd surges again.

Amid the chaos, whistles and scattered applause. Ianto drinks it all in.

"Thank you. Thank you. Come tonight and give till it hurts." Ianto calls over his shoulder as Jack grabs his elbow and with a final surge, Jack makes it to the door with his party.

The door closes shut behind them.

A mass of distorted faces pushes onto the glass.

The party walks on briskly.

Jack keeps his hand there a moment longer than necessary and feels it.

Just for a moment, Ianto is shaking with terror.

Then Ianto moves away with false bravado.

Jack's shoulders slump.

 


	14. mess

"I'm beginning to wonder about your judgement, Sy. Why do I have to keep paying my dues if I've already arrived?" Ianto snarls as he stalks the space deemed safe.

Jack watches as one might watch a caged tiger.

"Kick me, beat me... whatever makes you feel better sweetie. But let's not pretend you don't like it. We're too close for that. Whipping people into a frenzy is why you got into it in the first place." Spector wheedles as Ianto swings to stalk towards him gain. Ianto's eyes lock with Spector's - there's a real connection and understanding here that he spends a lot of time denying. Jack sees it as clearly as Spector, whose tone becomes almost soothing "And it's nothing to be ashamed of, either, not for a second. It's a gift... and only a handful is given it. Many call but few are answered."

"Don't fool with the blessing, Ianto. The magic is sustained through its use." Spector throws his arms wide as Ianto stops and glared at him.

"Now you're going to tell me about magic? Give it a rest will ya..." Ianto snorts, "I was somebody else once. I laughed, I loved. I had … I had a soul. Look at me. A performing monkey with no light … I …" Ianto sighs and turns to look out the window at the clouds and Jack wonders what he was like before fame ate him alive.

"You are their light now. Those who feed off your magic. I'm done. Not another word..." Spector shrugs, "... I know you like to be reminded sometimes."

Ianto looks away. It's true. He's good at his job.

**.**

**.**

**.**

In the spotlight, all alone, Ianto Jones works his magic.

He sings, as it was meant to be sung, "I Have Nothing."

One person does not look at Ianto. He stands in a corner in front of the stage easily in the shadows. His eyes are continually scanning and picking up every movement.

All alone.

Watching.

Fireworks explode over the water.

**.**

**.**

**.**

In the living room, the first night party is in full swing. Crowded. Smoky. Noisy. Fireworks burst outside the windows. People clap.

A mixed bag of upscale partygoers: women in party dresses, men in open shirts, etc. A black pianist is playing. Two bars at either end of the room. Waiters work the room with platters of canapés.

Tony sits in a chair watching TV, a drink in his hand, oblivious to all.

The lifeguard shuts Ianto's door behind him and makes his way down to the party.

He pauses at the head of the stairs, checking out the party, and grabs a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

Jack catches the movement; the two men briefly lock eyes.

The lifeguard responds with a sad smile.

"Had fun did you?" Jack asks and the response he gets is unexpected.

"He didn't feel like it after all" he is told with a soft snort. "Seems I was just a bit of fun, he actually hadn't expected me to come."

.

.

.

Billis has set up a checkpoint through which all guests are passing.

As they get off the elevator, they walk up to a desk manned by one of Billis's uniformed guards.

When their names have been checked off a master list, they walk past another guard wielding a metal detector. No one likes it, but they all do it.

Most of the local TV stations have sent camera crews. The handheld cameras move among the guests, their bright lights flaring.

It's a local media event.

Jack squints as quartz light shines straight in his face.

A tall, fit, athletic-looking man raises his arms; is cleared by the metal detector. Portman makes his way through the crowd to the bar. His eyes scan the suite. His gaze settles on Jack checking out the people who filter in. Portman appears next to Jack.

"Hello, Harkness."

"Portman." Jack nods.

"Buy you a drink?" Portman offers.

"Orange juice. It's been awhile." Jack turns to him with a fake simle in place, "You on the job?"

"Technically I'm off duty, but the Governor may show up here later, so I thought I'd give it a light check." He smiles back "Someone else is covering him right now."

"How old is she?" Jack snorts.

"Maybe eighteen. You working?"

Ianto makes his entrance, and poses self-mocking on the landing above the crowd, accepting applause. He has succeeded in under-dressing everyone in the room.

He is a star.

Jack nods in his direction... that's his client.

"No kidding? I'd call that a step up from the President. Probably sings better too." Portman whispers as Ianto holds the room.

"Thank you. Thank you. You're so right." Ianto is gushing as people titter, "I want everyone to have a good time and drink as much of Ben

Schiller's liquor as you like."

Ianto descends into the crowd, laughing and blowing kisses.

"Handful." Portman snorts as he pushes his shoulder against Jack's.

Jack's look says if you only knew the half of it.

"I heard you had to take someone out in New York." Portman wants to talk but Jack remembers and just nods. **"** I lost track of you after the shooting thing."

"Yeah."

"It wasn't your fault, Harkness." Portman assures him, "You weren't even there."

A pause.

"I got a call a couple of months ago. That guy you were covering in Old New York. He said you'd recommended me."

"Surprised?" Jack asks without losing sight of Ianto.

"A little."

"I never doubted your skills." Jack places the glass down and shifts to find Ianto as someone steps

"No. Only my qualifications for the priesthood. You were always clear about that. Anyway, I appreciate it. I had to turn it down but I appreciate it." Portman notices Ianto looking at him, as he makes his way to them. Ianto takes Jack's orange juice and sips and then makes a very funny face.

"That's orange juice!" Ianto splutters.

Ianto gives Portman an approving once-over. "Who are you?"

"Greg Portman."

"I take it you've met my bodyguard?" Ianto sashays back over to Jack.

"We used to work together." Portman smiles, noting the way Jack moves his shoulder in between them.

"Ah... Well, well, well. And what do you do now?" Ianto asks with a raised eyebrow, something Jack struggles not to look at.

"Same thing as Harkness."

"Two samurai, eh?" Ianto says softly as Jack and Portman eye each other. "Are you working now?"

"Not right now."

"Good." Ianto smiles, taking Portman by the arm, "'cause I'm the only one in the room who needs protection."

He gives Jack a look and leads Portman into the crowd.

.

.

.

Ianto's taking a breather on the balcony, drinking champagne, talking to Portman and another couple. Everybody's high and happy. Conversation bubbles.

Ianto leans into Portman; heads together, they whisper intimately. Ianto laughs, then for a brief moment, turns his head to look directly at Jack. His look is petulant, defiant.

Portman does not see this.

Inside, Tony helps himself to a handful of canapés, he turns at the sound of a commotion out on the balcony. Someone's horsing around, spraying champagne from a bottle over everyone.

A woman screams.

Jack bolts for the balcony.

Ianto and Portman are poised precariously halfway over the railing. Jack's hand shoots out, grabs Ianto's wrist and tugs at the pair of them.

Portman regains his balance first and pulls Ianto back from the edge.

"What happened!" Jack demands.

"Somebody tripped. It's okay." Portman says shakily.

"Good thing I had a bodyguard here." Ianto grasps the railing and looks over, staring down twenty stories of distance between him and the pool area. "It's a long way down, Jack."

"You saved my life." Ianto says to Portman.

Jack eyes the newly-welded anchor fixture.

It has held.

Ianto takes Portman by the arm.

The front of his shirt is stained with champagne.

"Maybe someone will keep an eye on me while I change." He leads Portman past Jack and up the stairs toward his bedroom. Jack and Portman lock eyes.

Portman shrugs; he feels badly for Jack.

Jack walks to the bar taking a drink from his glass. He looks in the mirror behind the bar and sees Ianto and Portman in the hall outside his bedroom. He turns his head to look directly at Jack's reflected face.

Assured that Jack is watching, he takes Portman's hand and leads him into the room.

Jack sets his glass down and the bartender refills it with orange juice. A stunning woman glides down the bar and stands very close to Jack.

"I've been watching you all night from across the room." She purrs.

"Why don't you go back there and keep watching?"

Jack looks at Ianto's doorway, sipping his juice.

Ianto and Portman are kissing, with some heat. Portman's hands are starting to explore Ianto's body.

Jack still looks at Ianto's doorway, thinking. After a moment, he walks across the room to the sliding doors that lead to the balcony outside.

Jack steps outside. No one there. The moonlight reflects off the ocean.

It is peaceful and quiet. A relief.

On the Katz's balcony, forty feet away, little Mark Katz is leaning against the railing, staring at Ianto's suite.

Jack smiles at him. "Go to sleep."

Jack looks out at the ocean. After a pause, in the background, Mark slips inside the Katz suite.

Ianto and Portman are still locked in the clinch. Realizing what he's doing, Ianto suddenly pulls back, catching himself."I'm not doing this."

"I think you are." Portman laughs as he backs him against a wall.

Ianto struggles as he realises he is pinned.

Jack watches the ocean.

 


	15. I know where you are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chap 11 has now been inserted .... go back if you want to read the smut chap of the 'date'

Ianto knees him in the groin and steps out of his unwelcome embrace.

"I said I was grateful." Ianto says shakily, "Thank you and good night."

Portman moves toward him as he opens the door, reaching for his arm.

Then he sees, through the doorway, Tony standing in the hall talking to a woman. Tony looks up at the sound of the door and sees them both.

Ianto slips quickly out of Portman's grip.

"Mr. Portman was just leaving us, Tony."

Portman hesitates, then smiles at Ianto and Tony and, with a quick peck on Ianto's cheek, slips past them back to the party.

Ianto briefly scans the party crowd over Tony's shoulder but he doesn't see Jack. The door closes, leaving him alone in the room again. He reaches for a bottle of Scotch and raises it to his mouth, drinking straight from the bottle.

He moves to the music cubes scattered on his dresser and chooses one with a shaking hand.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jack looks out at the ocean.

A song is wafting on the wind, echoing and faint as "what becomes of the Broken Hearted" is played from somewhere behind him, the song he and Ianto danced to.

Jack stares out at the ocean. Totally divorced from everything in the suite behind him, in the world around him. There is only the moon and the ocean. For this one moment, his guard is down.

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Morning.**

A chambermaid is vacuuming the floor. Ianto steps out of his bedroom.

He looks terrible. Hung-over, he is wearing sunglasses and a loose shirt. It is noon of the following day.

Jack is sitting at the kitchen table eating a sandwich. Behind him, in the dining room, a Cuban maid has set a place with breakfast. She is pouring orange juice as Ianto walks in.

Ianto sits down at the table as though the walk in had been a terrible effort. He looks at the breakfast with distaste and picks up the coffee.

Jack continues to eat.

Ianto looks at him.

"What the hell are you looking at?" he demands as he glares at Jack, all crispy and energetic looking, "You probably never had a heavy night in your whole, goddamn disciplined life.

Jack looks at him, continues to eat.

"You know, Harkness, you're a self-righteous son-of-a-bitch.

Jack has to smile at this, which makes Ianto even angrier.

"Don't laugh at me, goddamn it! And don't you dare judge me." Ianto hisses, slamming down the coffee mug and then groaning at the effort.

"Give me a break, will ya? I didn't tell you to fuck everybody in the hotel!" Jack finally answers as he rises to leave.

Ianto sits in abject misery as he pushes the plate of food away.

The only thing he wants is off the menu.

.

.

.

Special Agents Court and Minella are watching the general manager of the local supply house as he pries the top off a huge canister marked "INDUSTRIAL DETERGENT." The general manager lifts the lid to reveal white powder.

He talks animatedly and gestures around the warehouse.

Court listens, nodding.

Minella spoons some of the powder into a plastic bag and seals it.

.

.

.

"It matches the traces in the glue, Jack. We're getting to him. We're gonna nail this fucker."

Jack is on the courtesy phone. "Yeah, well, don't take too long, Ray."

"Hey, Jack. its good money, isn't it?"

Jack hangs up.

**.**

**.**

**.**

The elevator door opens and Jack steps out. He walks toward the entrance to the suite and is immediately alarmed by what he sees: there is no uniformed guard by the front door.

He unlocks the door and goes inside.

Jack comes in and looks around quickly.

Looking over living room, hallways, balcony.

No one in sight.

Nothing disturbed.

Smith comes out of Ianto's bedroom, a panicked look on his face. They face each other across the gulf of the living room.

"Where is he? Where's Tony?" Jack asks with growing fear.

"I don't know. I thought you were with him." Smith gasps.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jack is at the telephone; he punches out three numbers. "Billis, this is Harkness. Where's your man on the door to the suite?"

"Well get someone up here." Jack hangs up the phone, looks at Smith. "He doesn't know."

They look at each other, worried. Jack walks out onto the balcony, looks round and down, comes back in. He heads for the front door.

"Where are you going?" Smith asks, starting to follow.

Jack is almost at the door. We hear voices and laughter. A key turns in the lock. Ianto and Tony come through the door in high spirits, their arms full of shopping bags and packages.

Jack stops dead and watches.

Ianto glances at him and goes into the living room. Tony looks at him meaningfully and follows. Jack reflects for a moment, then pulls the front door closed, oh so gently.

Ianto drops packages around and goes to the bar, pours himself a drink.

Tony takes some packages to Ianto's bedroom.

"Hello, Smith." Ianto says calmly as he sips from the glass.

"Ianto, where the hell have you been?" Smith explodes angrily and Ianto blinks with surprise.

"Tony and I went over to Balendrax Harbour. Did a little shopping." Ianto explains as Tony comes back, a smile playing across his lips.

Jack watches near the entrance.

"We were worried." Smith says as he looks over at Jack "You know you're not supposed to do that."

Jack and Ianto look at each other.

"Harkness, you work here! Do you understand that? You work for me." Ianto huffs with a flick of his wrist.

"Ianto." Smith warns as Jack turns and heads for the door. Smith looks at him anxiously. "Harkness, where are you going?"

"I'm gonna check the route. As usual." Jack says softly as he opens the front door.

A uniformed guard is standing outside. Jack goes out and closes the door.

"Did Flynn call?" Ianto asks softly.

Smith, staring after Jack, shakes his head "no."

Jack's face shows the tension and the anger.

The elevator descends.

Jack walks along the edge of the kitchen, looks over the workers. A kitchen worker is in Jack's path. He looks up, sees Jack's face and scurries out of his way.

Jack walks along checking the corridor. At each doorway, he stops, looks inside.

One room is dark.

He flicks on the light.

Near the door is a pile of wooden crates, placed unnaturally out from the wall. Jack walks over and looks inside. They are discarded vegetable crates. Jack goes back to the door and yells toward the kitchen.

"Gomez! Louis Gomez!"

He waits impatiently.

No one comes.

Two quick steps and he is back at the crates, throwing them violently into the corner where they smash loudly to the floor. Jack walks on along the corridor.

He stops, noticing something around the side.

He investigates.

An Endreasrika Warrior is sitting on some boxes in the shadows. He doesn't bat an eye (he does have six) when he sees Jack.

"What are you doing?"

The purple skinned mammoth leers. "Is none of you fuckin' business."

"Move it." Jack snarls, openly displaying his teeth in a challenge.

The Enormous creature gets slowly up from the boxes. He towers over Jack, "Shove it up your ass, motherfucker."

Jack has had enough for one afternoon.

He hits the purple man low and hard. The man crumples forward, hurt, but manages to enfold Jack in an awesome bear hug. His weight carries them backward in Jack's direction.

The man continues moving in that direction, but Jack is no longer in his grasp. Instead, incredibly, Jack seems to have passed through the man's body and flicked him into the corner of the stairwell.

The man hits the wall hard.

Jarred but not lost, he comes up and out wielding a long mop as if it were a baseball bat.

Jack steps in and under the man's long arms and hits him four times around the chest and jaw. Each of Jack's hands lands twice, their movement is barely visible.

The solid thudding tells the story. Jack strikes both the man's ears simultaneously with cupped hands.

The man goes down, stunned.

Jack, his expression fierce, is upon him immediately. Jack's arms entwine

the man's and he begins to lift him roughly.

At the end of the corridor, a woman screams. **"** Stop! Please. Don't hurt him. Please stop!"

Jack looks up.

A hotel housemaid, carrying her purse, is running towards them, tears already on her face.

"Don't hurt my husband, mister. He not up to nothing."

Jack lets the man down gently and stands up. Disgusted with himself. Breathing hard, he leans back against the wall.

The Cleaning Woman falls to her knees and hugs her husband protectively.

"I'm sorry." Jack steps away, rubs a hand through his hair, and tries to collect himself.

He's standing amidst dumpsters and discarded food boxes.

He looks up and sees a marquee.

Curses as Ianto's name is emblazoned across it.

.

.

.

Ianto is seated at his dressing table applying his makeup for the evening's performance. The telephone chirps as he begins to work on his hair.

"Flynn?"

No response.

"Baby, is that you? It's Taddy, honey." Ianto smiles as he waits for his child to speak.

"Guess again, whore! Fuck you and fuck Miami. I'm coming for you."

The voice is mechanical and menacing as Ianto's smile fades and he half rises from the stool.

"I know where you are and I'm coming for you..."

 


	16. retreat

Ianto is paralyzed by fear, unable to hang up the phone.

Jack comes in the front door. He's had it. Smith, who has been sitting alone in the living room, stubs out a cigarette and stands to meet him.

Jack doesn't pause. "I'm through. I'll get you back to L.A. and that's it. The guy with Flynn can cover you till you get a replacement."

"He got another call, while you were downstairs and he answered it himself. It was him, Jack. Same guy." Smith says softly and Jack shrugs.

"I don't care."

"Harkness, it really shook him up." Smith sighs, "He thought it was going to be Flynn calling from new L.A. I think he'll be reasonable now."

"Save it, Smith. The people who hire me don't have to be convinced to save their own lives." Jack reaches the sliding door that leads to the balcony. "Call me when he's ready to go down."

"Harkness …" Smith called but Jack goes out on the balcony and slides the door closed behind him.

"Jack looks out at the ocean. The breeze washes over his face. A huge brightly-lit yacht is sailing by, close to shore. Jack looks at it reflectively.

He senses another presence and looks to his right. Ianto sits huddled in a balcony chair. The bright moonlight illuminates him as he looks out to sea.

He is wearing one of his spectacular show suits, his hair has been brushed, and his stage makeup has been applied. But tonight it hasn't come together. It doesn't work. He holds a cigarette and the breeze keeps it glowing. This is the only time Jack's seen him smoke.

"Harkness... Nothing that's happened between us matters... I understand now... You're going to have to believe me, because I'm not going to beg." He takes a long drag on his cigarette.

"It wasn't what he said... it was the way he said it... he was so..." His voice cracks. He stops and tries to compose himself. "I need you... I'm afraid... and I hate it. I hate my fear... Please protect me... Protect

Flynn... If anything happened to him..."

Jack looks at him. Tears are destroying his elaborate stage makeup. He wipes them away with his hand.

"I can't protect you like this." Jack sighs, "It's impossible. The odds are on his side."

"I'll do whatever you say."

This is the first time Jack has ever heard Ianto say that. He studies him, then looks out at the ocean.

"I want to take you away for a while."

Ianto nods.

"Somewhere people don't know about."

He nods again, agreeing.

"No Spector or Smith or Tony." Jack says as he looks at him, reading his face for any hesitation.

There is none.

"If you cross me up this time, I'll kill you myself." Jack jokes and Ianto smiles, weakly but with obvious relief.

Both wants the warmth of the other, but it is too late for that now.

They both look into the dark to hide their need.

**.**

**.**

**.**

A large, old, two-story house sits at the top of a slight rise, surrounded on three sides by thick, rolling woods.

Sloping gently down from the house to the lake fifty yards away is a broad expanse of lawn. Snow lies on the ground and in the trees. At the edge of the lake is a dock and boathouse. An entrance road cuts out of the trees.

A little terrier skitters to the edge of the drive.

A van emerges from the trees, tires digging through the snow.

Jack's father, John, steps onto the front porch. He's in his mid-60's, lean, tan and fit. He's wearing a plaid shirt, jeans and cowboy boots.

The van stops in front of the house. Jack steps out from the driver's seat and eyes his dad.

"Lake's a little low." Jack says softly.

"Fill up soon enough when she thaws." His father snorts, peering at the van, "They all in trouble?"

"Just one."

.

.

.

.

John squats on the floor with Flynn. Together, they are happily playing around with the fluffy terrier.

Flynn squeals with delight as the dog licks his face.

Henry brings the remaining luggage through. Ianto and Rhiannon stand with Jack near the archway. All eyes are on Flynn, John and the dog. Ianto eyes the dog sceptically.

"That's going to protect us?"

"He's a trained noisemaker." Jack says in defence of the dog.

"Terrific." Ianto sighs with that patented eye roll.

"I don't like big dogs. They don't know who they're eating." Jack grins.

.

.

.

Later that afternoon John stands beside a butcher block, cutting vegetables for the evening meal with a practiced hand.

Ianto watches, drink in hand, looking around the kitchen. It has been neatly organized.

"Katherine had this place organized just the way she wanted it." John says softly to Ianto who gives him a questioning look, "Jack's momma."

There's the vocal cough of an outboard motor from outside. Ianto looks from the kitchen window and sees Flynn and Jack in the small skiff by the dock.

Flynn tugs again on the starter cord. At the third tug he tumbles backwards onto the seat.

"Flynn doesn't swim well." Ianto says softly.

"I guess he'd better stay in the boat then." Jon quips, gaining a smile from Ianto, "Jack tells me you're a singer."

"That's right." Ianto nods as he shifts to see the boat better.

"I'm afraid we're a little out of touch here. I'm sorry." John says apologetically and Ianto waves this off. "You must be very successful to need Jack."

Ianto smiles and looks out of the window. "It's so quiet here."

"Jack came back and stayed six months after the Reagan thing." Ianto's questioning look encourages John.

"Jack wasn't there the day he was shot. He never got over that." John pauses and blinks, "We buried Katherine that day."

Ianto looks out again at Jack and Flynn in the boat.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Flynn, Ianto and Jack are chugging across the golden water in the skiff.

Flynn sits at the back, operating the outboard, controlling the movements of the boat.

He wears a life vest.

Ianto watches him proudly.

Flynn locks the throttle into place and takes his hands off it for a laughing moment with a "Look, Tad, no hands" gesture.

Ianto looks to Jack and smiles, the wind blowing his short curling hair. It is soft without the usual product in it and Jack remembers the smell of it on his pillow.

He looks out across the lake.

A light mist is coming up.

Henry helps Flynn tie up the boat for the night. It is much foggier now and almost dark.

"I don't want anyone going out in it until you've checked it over first. Okay? Every time." Jack says and Henry nods.

"Every time." Henry agrees.

"Every time." Jack repeats with emphasis.

In the distance, Ianto and Flynn have just reached the house where Rhiannon scoops up Flynn and spins him round and round in a circle.

She hugs him close and kisses his hair.

After a few moments, Flynn squirms free and runs to catch up with Ianto.

Ianto, munching on a raw carrot, browses a row of family photographs. The sounds of dinner being prepared come from the kitchen.

We see the history of the family in the pictures; Jack as a ten-year-old baseball player with a younger John; John as Police Chief of Bend, New Oregon, being given a civic award; Jack as a college football wide receiver; John and Katherine Harkness, all dressed up and being introduced to Jilly Carter by Jack; the picture-perfect family home in New Oregon with Katherine tending flowers.

Ianto notices a photo of a smiling Henry Kissinger, talking to some female reporters. There standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him, are Jack and Portman.

Portman's also smiling at the women, flirting. Jack is in a familiar pose, alert, unsmiling, vigilant. Ianto looks at the two of them for a second.

Jack steps from the kitchen with an orange juice and a drink for Ianto in his hand. He watches him for a moment as he studies the photo.

He turns and sees him.

They lock eyes for several seconds.

He smiles as he hands him the drink.

"Portman sometimes had trouble remembering what his job was." Jack says as he motions at the photo, "Supper's ready."

We can see from Ianto's face that he feels embarrassed about his behaviour in Miami.

The meal has been enthusiastically consumed. Flynn's manhandling a chicken leg, his face covered with crumbs and drippings.

Ianto shakes his head, laughing.

"... And I never hit him. Ever. To this day." John pauses his story to address Jack, "That's true, isn't it?"

Jack nods and John confides "That's very unusual for my people."

"So what happens? When he's ten years old, he complains about it?" he laughs as Jack and Ianto share a look, "Can you believe that?"

Jack gets up smiling and takes some dishes into the kitchen.

Jack puts down the dishes in the darkened kitchen calling over his shoulder, "If you're lucky, maybe he'll tell you about my first jockstrap."

As he speaks, he peers out through the window at the lake. We hear John's voice continue from the other room. "He hated getting hit, flinched at the thought. He got over it: Turned into a helluva wide receiver. He couldn't stand being afraid. When he found something that scared him, he'd just do it 'til the fear went away."

"His mother was the same way."

Ianto smiles at him, thinking, then looks through at Jack in the kitchen, still peering out of the windows.

Rhiannon watches Ianto.

She watches as he sighs and slumps, looking away.

Now she watches Jack.


	17. tick tick

John delicately lifts a chessboard from the top of a cabinet and walks it over to the table: A half-finished game. He leans over and blows on the pieces – sending a small cloud of dust into the air.

"Come on, son, you can run but you can't hide." John pulls up a chair and smiles as Jack appears from the kitchen, a bowl of popcorn in his hand.

Jack takes a place across from his dad by the fire. The others gather round.

"Your move." John says as Jack studies the board.

Ianto lowers his head into a cupped hand, fascinated. "How long has this game been going on?"

Jack picks up a knight, thinks, and sets it back down. "Three years."

Rhiannon takes the bowl of popcorn and squats down with it beside Flynn. Flynn peers intently at the board as he chews on a handful.

"He had me on the run there that first year." John tells Flynn.

Jack picks up a piece, scratches his forehead with it.

He turns to Flynn. "What do you think?"

Flynn finishes a mouthful of popcorn, wipes his mouth.

"Knight to king-four."

Jack, John and Ianto turn in synch and stare at the boy.

"City kid." Jack snorts.

John pats his leg, gesturing to Flynn to take a place on his lap. "Come over here, Flynn, sit by me."

Flynn goes over and joins him.

"Well, that's it for me, I'm going to bed." Ianto yawns and rises. Jack follows him up the stairs.

Rhiannon watches them go.

Jack stops at the end of the hallway, checking the lock on the window, the little terrier is at his heels.

Ianto pauses outside the door.

Jack gestures for the dog to stay. The dog sits in the middle of the hallway looking from one to the other. For a few seconds neither speaks.

Jack smiles. "Good night, Ianto."

Ianto accepts this. He smiles in return and touches him on the arm, very tenderly.

"Good night, Jack."

Ianto turns, goes to his room and closes the door.

**.**

**.**

Flynn is asleep, snuggled on John's lap by the fire.

John is also asleep. Jack fetches a blanket and gently covers them both. He puts out the light.

Jack steps quietly into the hall. Rhiannon is standing in the shadows.

She watches as Jack goes through the ritual of locking the front door, several ways. "You're very thorough."

Jack makes a circuit through the rooms of the first floor, checking windows and doors. Rhiannon tags along.

"What's happening between you and Ianto?"

Jack glances at her.

"Come on. One minute he's got magnetic hands, the next he hates you. I can't figure out what it is now."

"You follow all his moves this closely?" Jack asks.

"It's a living."

"No, it isn't." Jack says softly as he moves away into the next room.

She hesitates a moment, then follows. **"** You think my life is pretty pathetic, don't you?"

"No."

"You must. I do." She says maore to herself than him.

Jack steps into a tight, dark, little window alcove, checks the windows. "Why don't you change it?"

"Is it that easy?"

Jack turns from the window to find Rhiannon blocking his exit. She moves close to him and kisses him, her hands on his shoulders. The kiss ends and they look at each other.

"You're a lovely woman." Jack sighs.

"But you don't want me."

Jack's look affirms it.

Rhiannon is embarrassed, angry. "I'm surprised. Thorough fellow like you? Why stop at one Jones when you can fuck them both?"

"I make my mistakes."

"But you didn't say no to the boss." She starts to turn away from him, but his hands are on her now, holding her close, refusing to let her turn away.

Their faces are very close.

It is tight and near here.

"No, don't go away, Rhiannon. Don't leave me with that. Tell me about it. Tell me how long you've been second. Tell me how he has a child and you don't. Tell me something. But don't turn away and try to stick it on me." He says forcefully as he holds her.

Rhiannon twists in his grip.

He holds her tight.

"I don't need this from you." She snarls.

"Maybe I need it. I'm fed up with people telling me they have no control over their lives. If you hate your life so much, turn it around."

"It's not so simple." She sighs sadly.

"Yes it is. You can walk out that fucking door anytime you want." Jack nods his head in the direction of the backdoor, "I'll unlock it for you."

Rhiannon looks up into his face.

Tears start in her eyes. "Let me go."

He releases her, looks at her.

"Okay. It's not my business." He moves away and she is left staring after him.

For a long time.

.

.

.

Bright sun.

Jack and his father walk along the lake shoreline, stooping here and there to finger animal prints in the snow and mud.

"Raccoon... deer...?" Jack guesses and John nods.

Their attention is drawn to soft singing up by the house.

Rhiannon absently sings an old gospel tune as she tosses breakfast scraps to a group of hungry ducks gathered by the porch.

"I've never heard church music in the middle of the week before." John snorts as Jack straightens up to listen.

Rhiannon's soft voice is joined by Ianto's strong harmony, and the two men watch as Ianto comes out to join his sister on the porch, startling Rhiannon. Both sing for a moment, together.

Then Rhiannon stops, embarrassed.

Ianto gives her a hug.

John and Jack are about to return to the house. They stop short. There, at their feet, is a line of human foot prints, from heavy snow boots, leading away into the trees.

Jack looks at John, suddenly alert. "Where's Flynn?"

Henry appears at the porch of the house, carrying a fishing rod as he comes out. At that instant, the sound of the boat motor through the air. Jack's head snaps toward the boathouse.

Henry, in the distance, looks quickly at the boathouse, then to Jack.

"Jack! I haven't..."

But Jack is already moving, leaping from the porch and starting to run flat out toward the boathouse and dock.

Ianto turns to look.

The skiff appears out of the boathouse, Flynn at the motor, the boat's lone occupant. The boat moves slowly away from the boathouse, parallel to the dock.

Jack is running toward the water with everything he's got, his face contorted.

The sound of the motor drowns out his voice as he yells.

"Flynn! Flynn!"

Flynn, intent on his piloting, neither hears nor sees Jack running down the lawn behind him. The boat is approaching the end of the dock.

Jack finally makes it to the dock and continues to sprint after the boat. His weight rattles the boards as he runs.

Flynn passes the end of the dock and gives the throttle a little twist.

Jack reaches the end of the dock at a full run and dives directly at the rear of the moving boat. Jack's body flies out over the boat. He knocks Flynn out of his seat and into the water on the other side of the skiff.

"No! He can't swim!" Ianto screams as he flies from the deck and across the snow.

Jack holds the terrified, shaking Flynn in his arms.

Flynn begins to cry. Jack paddles with him toward the dock. The empty boat swerves, and then continues out toward the middle of the lake.

Henry and Ianto are already at the end of the dock. Rhiannon and John are running toward it.

Ianto is livid, hysterical.

Henry peers out at the boat, which continues to bounce innocently across the water, defining a broad curve.

"Flynn, baby. Are you all right? Baby." Ianto cried and Flynn, spluttering, is handed up to Ianto by Jack.

Ianto hugs Flynn to him and John bends down to check he's breathing properly, wrapping the boy in his jacket. "He's all right."

Henry helps Jack up out of the water. Jack sits on the end of the dock, breathing hard.

"What are you doing? You out of your mind? You're crazy!" Ianto shrieks at Jack, still overwrought as he cuddles his child with wide eyes. "You're all right, baby. You could have drowned him!"

Jack and Henry look out toward the boat which has come to a stop out in the middle of the lake.

"I'm sorry. I got careless." Jack says as he tries to hide his shaking.

Henry looks at Jack. He feels terrible about not checking the boat. "Jack, I'm sorry. I should have..."

"Its okay, Henry." John puts his hand on Flynn's head. "You all right now, son?"

Flynn nods, his crying ends raggedly.

Jack begins to stand up.

"How do we get the boat back?" Henry asks and they all turn to look at it with soft sighs.

The explosion rips the boat apart, scattering the pieces wide.


	18. intruding

Everyone on the dock jumps.

Rhiannon screams.

Jack sits down again.

He shakes his head.

On an impulse, he stretches out his hand, palm downward.

It's trembling slightly.

Ianto seizes it and squeezes for a second, then let's go as he comforts his child.

Jack closes it into a fist.

.

.

.

Ianto and Rhiannon hurriedly pack their bags. Flynn hovers nearby.

Jack slides out from under the van. The hood is up.

Henry stands nearby. Jack goes to the driver's seat.

"Back off." Jack warns and Henry moves away from the van. Jack inserts the key in the ignition.

John comes out of the house, fast. His eyes scan the woods as he heads towards the shed. "Jack!"

Henry turns and motions to John to stay away.

Jack takes a moment, then turns the key.

Nothing.

The van is dead.

Henry and John watch.

Jack gets out of the van.

He walks to John.

"Someone's blocked the com links. It could be anywhere between here and town." John says quietly and Jack curses.

"Both the cars are dead. And I can't see how it was done." Jack and John exchange a look.

"Who could know we're here? This place has nothing to do with him." Jack hisses as he looks back towards the house.

"Maybe it has to do with you." John offers.

Jack looks at him.

"We can't walk out of here at night with them." John rubs his face as he talks and Jack shakes his head.

"We'll button down tonight and walk out at first light."

.

.

.

There is a light ground-mist. The moon shines down brightly but the house is totally dark.

The terrier dog listens in the upstairs hallway. John watches from an upstairs window. Ianto lies in bed, clutching Flynn tightly.

Jack has been sitting in a chair in the centre of the living room for two hours.

Listening.

Now we listen with him.

At first it seems silent, but slowly we become aware of a subtle array of sounds. An old house surrounded by woods. There are lots of sounds. But they are regular, innocent.

Jack is aware of a new noise, a gentle sobbing coming from nearby. He picks up his gun from the table beside him and goes into the kitchen.

Rhiannon is sitting with her head in her hands at the kitchen table, sobbing. There's a nearly empty bottle beside her. Jack is instantly on the alert but makes no sign.

"I was an idiot last night." She sobs and there is a long pause. "What do you think about today?"

"I think this is no maniac. He knows what he's doing." Jack finally answers as he eyeballs her.

There is a long, long silence. Rhiannon continues crying.

Finally – "You're right. He does."

"Tell me about it." Jack asks as he steps closer but she doesn't reply. "Who is it, Rhiannon?"

"He almost got Flynn today..." she whispers as she wipes her face.

"How do we stop him?" Jack asks softly.

"...my darling Flynn..."

"Who is it?" Jack demands as he reaches out to touch her arm.

"I don't know. I don't know." She sobs.

Jack goes to her, treats her gently, like a friend. "You can call him off."

"He doesn't even know who hired him." She wails and Jack's shoulders droop, gods he hates being right all the bloody time.

"He doesn't know who I am and I don't know who he is." She says shakily.

"How'd you do it?" he sits.

She seems on the edge of hysteria. Jack takes her face in his hands, strokes her hair, and brings her back from the brink.

"How?" he whispers.

"...I went to a bar in East L.A. I asked around... I talked to a man..."

"Name?" Jack asks as a purr, his thumb still rubbing her cheek.

"...Armando... He arranged it. That's all I know..."

"Is it all paid for?" Jack asks with dread grabbing at his balls.

"... and then some... Till it's done."

"He keeps going until he kills him?" Jack huffs and Rhiannon nods again, lowering her face into her hands.

"What's the name of the bar?"

"I'm not sure... I was very stoned." She looks at him and smiles weakly, maybe he can fix this.

"How 'bout the letters?"

"No, no. You don't understand. The letters came first. I don't know who's sending them... but they're reading my mind... Those were my thoughts. I hate him. It made me think I could do it... But I could never hurt Flynn. Never." She grabs for his hand with desperation, "You've got to stop it!"

"We will. You and me. Tomorrow we're going back to New L.A. We're going to find the bar, we're going to find Armando." He promises as he starts to rise.

She stops him.

"Don't you even want to know why?"

"You told me. He has everything." Jack stands up and begins to move across the room. Rhiannon puts her face in her hands and is silent for one moment.

Suddenly, Jack freezes, listening.

"What if we can't …" Rhiannon starts and Jack motions her into silence.

We strain to hear what Jack hears. Silently, Jack goes to the door, crouching.

He listens.

There again is a soft growl from the dog upstairs.

Jack lifts his gun from the table, turns to Rhiannon. "Stay here. Don't move."

Rhiannon's face shows true terror.

Jack is out the door.

Jack runs up the stairs, fast. Two at a time.

Jack travels close to the wall, very quickly. He stops, listens.

The dog looks at Jack but still snarls.

Jack throws open Ianto's door.

Ianto gasps in surprise and clutches at Flynn. Jack hears a noise behind him, whirls round him and drops to a knee, weapon ready to fire!

"It's John, stepping out of his room, carrying a police issue pistol. "It's me!

Ianto's voice comes from the room. "What's happening?"

The terrier suddenly starts barking loudly.

A figure is moving along the hallway. Rhiannon steps out of the kitchen a few feet ahead and looks in terror toward them.

"No, no... stop... I'm the one who..."

Jack and John spin around.

Ianto calls from his room. "Jack?"

A laser beam blasts Rhiannon against the wall, her hand still delicately raised in a classic gesture of restraint.

Jack's head spins to Ianto's doorway, then immediately back to John. He starts to move towards the stairs, fast. "Stay with Ianto!"

Henry's head appears round the doorway of John's room.

Jack is rapidly down the stairs, gun in hand.

Jack finds Rhiannon's body slumped against the wall. He checks her.

She's dead.

 


	19. licking wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> REVIEW REPLY
> 
> Story: Bodyguard - Torchwood style  
> Chapter: 18. Chapter 18
> 
> From: Guest
> 
> :Several "hers" in here that didn't get changed to him when you copied it over - you may want to do a read through and edit
> 
> Dear Guest, thank you for the feedback. As you are not a logged on member I cannot answer you personally so I am doing so here.
> 
> My version is as close to the movie as I can go with the monologue almost identical but I have made marked differences. Including adding smut and some extra scenes.
> 
> However, Rhiannon is still female.
> 
> Thank you for your comment but I shall endeavour to put 'hers' as she did not have a hidden gender.
> 
> ...........................................................................................

 

The door beyond is open.

The wind blows in. Outside it's foggy.

"Dad?"

"We're okay!"

"Stay with Ianto!"

The dog continues to bark upstairs.

Jack sees a slight movement outside and window to his right. A split-second decision. He heads off rapidly down the hall, away from the open door.

The fog is thick. Jack swiftly emerges from the back door and stops, dead still, listening. There is only the whispering leaves in the trees.

John is by Ianto's bed.

"What's happening? Where's Rhiannon?" Ianto whimpers as he cradles his terrified baby.

"Be quiet!" John hisses as he struggles to hear his son moving about below.

Outside, Jack listens as well.

Suddenly he hears noise, a body breaking through the bushes. Jack heads off towards the sound at a run.

He moves fitfully through the eerie, beautiful scene.

In and out of the fog.

Stop, listen, wait, go.

Two wary, interchangeable animals.

Jack disappears into the fog. When the figure reappears, Jack is moving faster, closing the gap.

The figure, is wearing a dark-coloured ski mask. His breath billows out of the mouth hole, whitening in the cool March air. He hears Jack and points his gun in the direction of the noise.

He does not fire.

Jack stops and rests on his haunches.

Listening, he hears the intruder move.

The sounds have stopped up ahead.

Close.

The figure peers into the fog, gun up.

He's ready, confident.

He waits.

Nothing.

Jack, from his crouch, does something brand-new.

He raises his gun into the fog in a two-handed grip, ready to fire.

He holds it easily.

And then he does something really strange: Jack closes his eyes.

After a beat, he hears something.

Jack, eyes still closed, swings his gun to the left and left of two blasts.

The man jumps away from a small tree that has splintered six inches from his shoulder.

His eyes are wild behind his ski mask.

Frightened, he suddenly crashes away in the opposite direction.

.

.

.

John is at the window. There is anguish on his face as he hears the blasts. He wants to go to his son's aid but knows he cannot leave Ianto.

Ianto and Flynn are huddled in the bed, terrified.

Flynn clutches at the dog, which is still barking as Henry stands by the bed, gun in hand.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jack moves quickly through the woods, passes the splintered tree.

A Hover car roars to life and shoots of the dirt.

Jack breaks out of the woods in time to see the red lights at the back of the car as it fishtails around a bend.

He empties his clip at it. We hear shots hitting their target, but the car keeps going.

**.**

**.**

**.**

Snow is falling.

In the front yard the scene is lit by the flashing lights of a police car. Jack is on the phone to Minella.

" _But, Jack, this doesn't make sense..."_

"What do you mean?" Jack asks.

" _We already got him."_

"What? Where?" Jack straightens up.

Minella is talking with Jack on the phone. He's looking into an observation room through a one-way window. "Here, last night. You should see his locker, Jack. The guy's obsessed with Ianto Jones...

"You're sure it's him?" Jack sees the coroner enter the house and sighs softly.

"Forensics say it's 100 percent positive I.D... And he's got a black Toyota 4 x 4. Ray's with him now."Minella answers as he peers through one-way glass.

Sitting in the observation room at a table talking to Ray Court is Dan. He looks frightened and confused.

"Well, whoever you got down there wasn't here last night. This was a professional..." Jack snorts, looking over the lake as he tries to find solace in the water.

" _This is crazy... What do you want to do, Jack?"_

"How long can you keep him?" Jack is thinking fast.

" _Well technically all he's done is write some letters. 48 hours maximum. You know the deal."_

.

.

.

Ianto's black limousine moves slowly up the winding Drive of his estate, followed by a black Mercedes limousine. Behind the cars, the gates close on a large press contingent gathered outside, held back by a large number of police and security guards.

A light drizzle is falling.

The two cars pull up to the entrance, Henry at the wheel of Ianto's. Jack gets out of the front and opens the back door. Smith and Spector help Ianto and Flynn out of the car.

They are all dressed in black.

A few other mourners, including Estelle, get out of the Mercedes.

Ianto, red-eyed and weary, takes Flynn under his arm and goes inside.

He does not look at Jack.

.

.

.

A hand takes a jug of orange juice from the fridge and pours some into a large glass. They uncap a bottle of vodka and pour a huge portion into the orange juice.

It has grown very dark in the family room.

Jack is sitting all alone, perfectly still, in one of the over-stuffed chairs, the vodka bottle on a table next to him.

He stares off into space.

A small voice comes out of the darkness. "You okay, Jack?"

Jack acknowledges Flynn's small presence standing to the side of the big chair. He doesn't look at him directly.

"Yeah, Flynn, I'm okay. How 'bout you?"

"I couldn't sleep... It was so scary, just thinking about it..." He looks at Jack. "Do you feel scared, Jack?"

"Yeah, Flynn, I do." Jack puts his hand gently on Flynn's head, but he does not look at him. **"** Everybody's afraid of something, Flynn. That's how we know we care about something, when we're afraid we'll lose it."

"What are you afraid of?"

"I think you should try to go back to sleep now, pal." Jack rubs the boy's head softly.

"Tell me, Jack, please. Is it the man who killed Aunty Rhiannon? Are you afraid of him?"

Finally, Jack turns and looks at Flynn. Jack is pretty far gone. He shakes his head "no."

He realizes that that kind of fear had never occurred to him, and recognizing that fact sets him back into his thoughts.

"Then what?" Flynn asks with confusion, "What are you afraid of?"

Jack doesn't have the will to resist anymore.

He lets his hand drop away from Flynn. "I'm afraid... of not being there..."

Flynn stares at him, uncomprehending.

"late. Do you want me to take you back to your room?" Jack offers and Flynn shakes his head "no," just barely. Then he disappears.

Jack, silhouetted, moves toward the stairway to the main level.

There is light up there.

Jack begins climbing the stairs. When he has gone a quarter of the way up, Ianto appears at the top and begins walking down.

At first he doesn't see Jack; when he does he hesitates a moment, then continues down. They meet and try to sidestep each other, but twice they go in the same direction, unable to get around.

Ianto, already emotionally ravaged, cracks.

He begins slapping Jack hard about the face and torso. One of the first blows knocks the glass from his hand and it smashes loudly against the wall.

He raises his arms in a half-hearted attempt to protect himself from the onslaught.

Ianto cries as he hits him. "You, you, you... You brought this pain into my house... Now you're here! Where were you then? Why didn't you save her? It was your job to protect me and she died doing it... It was me they were after. And you let them kill her!"

Jack is holding him as he gasps for air "She never did anything to anyone."

As he loses the strength and the will to hit him, his blows become sloppy, weak. He sinks to the steps, sitting on them, sobbing.

"She never hurt anyone. She was good." Ianto says wistfully, "You saw her. She never wished anyone any harm. Did she? Did she?"

Jack looks at her, shakes his head "no."

Ianto puts his head in his hands and is silent for a few moments, "She never hurt a soul. ... I didn't love her well enough. I didn't take care of her...(sob)... She gave me only love."

He sits quietly on the steps in the gloom.

Jack watches for a long moment, and then softly pulls him into his arms.

Ianto relaxes into his embrace and closes his eyes.

For a moment, they just exist.

 


	20. cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Re: Chap 19 comments about chap 18.
> 
> Thank you for clarifying the lines where I had feminised Ianto. LOL. Sorry if my reply was a bit snippy but I have received some negative reviews lately and my bi-polar is flaring as a result.
> 
> I do appreciate all comments and reviews, trying to take them onboard and only those that are personally insulting are removed when I can.

It's bright sunshine.

Flynn is splashing noisily in the pool with a few other kids. His nanny waits patiently at the side, towels at the ready.

At one side of the pool, Ianto sits, lost in thought, mourning his sister.

At the other side sits Jack, also thoughtful.

He, too, is trying to adjust to the tragedy for which he bears some of the responsibility.

The day ticks over in silence.

More than once Ianto glances as him and then looks away.

Jack can't leave.

It feels like a slow torture as the lights continue to give their artificial warmth in the cluster to resemble a long since left behind sun.

Ianto pretends to sunbathe, smiling at Flynn.

Flynn pretends not to notice the pain in his Tad's eyes.

.

.

.

The guardhouse at the main gate is brilliantly illuminated in the distance.

The guard patrols at his station.

Inside, the T.V. screens flicker and glow.

Perched on the top of a slight hill, Jack sits alone and motionless under a big tree. He gazes down at the gatehouse, his face lit softly by the glow from its lamps.

All around him the rest of the estate is quiet and tranquil in the moonlight.

After a moment, another silhouetted figure slowly approaches and stands beside him.

It's Ianto.

"I guess you've heard what's happening."

Jack nods.

"Mind if I sit down?" Ianto asks and Jack shakes his head.

They sit side by side for awhile, both lost in thought. Ianto seems very calm.

"It isn't over yet, is it?" Ianto finally asks, sliding a hand into Jack's as Jack shakes his head.

"He knows he still hasn't got you." Jack pulls him into a loose hug, breathing him in as he feels him shaking.

A bastard of a thing to talk about but Ianto needs to know the truth. He needs to be ready.

Everything has changed.

"So he'll come again?"

"It's possible." Jack concedes softly, feeling Ianto's arms snake around his waist.

"The Oscars?"

"Maybe."

Ianto takes this philosophically.

He tugs at the grass, thinking.

"When I was back in Squirrel Heights, I started betting my friends fifty bucks each that someday I'd win an Oscar. You can understand how important it is that they see me up there if I win." he looks at Jack and smiles. "If every one of those twats comes through, it could add up to a lot of money."

"I think it's very dangerous." Jack says slowly as he watches Ianto's face.

"I know. But I can't stay up here on my hill forever."

They are silent for awhile.

"Could be rich from a payout like that." Ianto whispers. "Even get some takeaways from the local"

Jack snorts at the dry humour usually hidden.

Ianto lies back on the grass, stares at the sky. After a few beats, Jack joins him, smelling grass, coffee and …Ianto. He resists the urge to touch him, still craving more.

"I didn't get to this place in my life by doing the smart thing every time." Ianto rolls his head and smiles softly as Jack clenches the grass, "How 'bout you, Jack Harkness? Out there on the edge... did you ever do something that didn't make too much sense, except maybe inside you? In your stomach somewhere? Something that wasn't smart?"

Jack doesn't reply as he sits up and Ianto snorts, "I'll bet you have plenty. I'll bet you do. Nobody gets really good without it. And you're good. I know that."

Ianto sits up beside him.

"I don't know why all this has happened to me..." Ianto takes a deep breath, "... but I do know that none of it's your fault. I hope you can hear me, because this is how I say I'm sorry."

Jack accepts.

"So... I'm going to go see if I win an Oscar. And I won't worry about it at all. Because I've got you to protect me." Ianto rolls so they are touching and Jack smiles.

"That's right." Jack whispers.

He looks at him a long time, and then takes him in his arms.

He kisses him and lays him down. His body moves over Ianto's.

Like a bodyguard, protecting him from the night.

Ianto's breathy cries are muffled by Jack's mouth as he tears at the loose clothing, finding the straining manhood easily accessible.

Ianto gives up struggling, and sighs as Jack's calloused hand encloses his weakness, lips sucking at his adam's apple.

"Jack, please" Ianto whimpers as he bucks against the leg thrust between his legs.

"Please, what?" Jack growls, those lips giving way to teeth.

"Please make me warm" Ianto sobs, "I'm so fucking cold here."

"It's OK baby" Jack croons as his own trousers slide to his knees and he pushes home, "I'll soon fill you with warmth."

Ianto can only shudder and mewl as Jack thrusts slowly, with gradual increasing force until they are both grunting as they breathe each other's breath.

Eyes wide open, Ianto is trying to memorise this man on top of him, owning him in a way he has never allowed before.

"Jack, please" he gasps again and Jack growls, showing his teeth as his thighs and butt cheeks clench and he slams in so hard that Ianto will bruise.

Jack knows what he is doing, recognising Ianto as more novice than the press think and he tries to be kind even as the smell is so intoxicating he wants to take a bite of him.

With a cry, Ianto rides the wave and his hands scramble to find a handful of hair, pulling at Jack's scalp as he roars and slams again.

Jack wonders why he ever drank, ever tried drugs when younger when this high is unequalled.

Then all thoughts flee and he whites out as he cries Ianto's name.

They lay in the dark, listening to the sounds of the estate and Jack gently cuddles the fragile man to his chest.

"I'm scared" Ianto whispers.

"I'm here."

"Don't leave me" Ianto whimpers, "I know I'm a bitch, please don't leave me."

"Never"


	21. Oscar night

The chaos and glitz of Oscar night.

Crowds, limos, cameras, searchlights...

The limo is waiting in a line of hover limos to reach the red carpeted entrance to The Vantages Theatre.

Jack and Tony sit in front with Henry.

In the back a spectacularly suited Ianto sits flanked by Smith and

Spector, both of whom, like Jack, are wearing tuxedos.

Up ahead, they can all see the hubbub at the entrance: TV cameras, lights, photographers, arriving guests, two bleachers full of fans.

The glare from the arc lights is almost blinding.

"We'll go straight back to the Green Room. Right, Jack?" Smith says and Jack nods. "Got that, Tony?"

"Tony knows what he's doing." Jack barks and Tony looks at Jack, surprised and not a little pleased with the unexpected support.

" **I** wish you boys would relax a little. Nothing bad is gonna happen out there, alright?" Ianto jokes as he looks at the solemn faces, "Unless I lose the fucking award."

He looks around at the men, all are tense. "Jesus, what a crew."

Ianto leans forward and flips down the mirror on the panel in front of him and checks his appearance. The limo moves up.

"Screw it. I'm through worrying. When your number's up, it's up. Right, Harkness?" Ianto says with fake bravado.

The limo is almost at the red carpet.

Jack slips out the front door of the moving limo.

More quartz lights click on.

The TV cameras all focus on the door of the limo as Jack steps out of the way as he surveys the busy scene.

An interviewer peers into Ianto's limo and walks toward it. "... Mister Ianto Jones!"

On wide screens we see Ianto wave to the crowd.

"Everyone wishes you the best tonight, Ianto." The interviewer gushes.

Jack leads the small procession down the red carpet.

Fans reach out asking for his autograph.

Jack is ahead in the distance, to the door, to the side at photographers nodding to the massed security men with their walkie-talkies.

Ianto's smile is convincing, lovely, professional.

Spector, Smith and Tony look strained.

As they enter, their limo is pulling ahead as the next car pulls up. The limo rolls past to reveal the rear fender of a Toyota 4X4 parked in the lot.

Ianto has made it to a large dressing room come safe room. It is large and has been fitted with a bar and buffet.

Formally-dressed presenters and hosts mill about, laughing and talking.

Many greet Ianto.

A TV monitor hangs from the ceiling in one corner. On it, the Academy Awards continue. An elaborate dance number is just concluding.

The audience applauds.

Beside the monitor, a large clock with a ticking second hand.

A harried associate producer Skip, comes up to Ianto, settled in an armchair. Tony stands nearby, Jack leans against a far wall.

"Hello, Ianto. I need to get you straight on your responsibilities." Skip starts to speak and Ianto hides his annoyance at the tone.

"Sure, Skip."

Skip takes a typewritten sheet from a sheaf in his hand and gives it to Ianto. He consults a clipboard as he speaks. There, laid out minute by minute, is the order of the evening's events. Each one has a precise time printed beside it, including those that involve Ianto.

"Now, it's Best Sound, then another song, then you. At precisely (looks at his clipboard) - 8:07, you'll be presenting with Clive Healy. Those are your lines. The prompter's straight ahead and - we pray - working perfectly."

Ianto nods. "Fine, you'll be a big shot someday, Skip."

Skip smiles and walks off, glancing up at the clock.

7:43. Clive Healey, a slim British actor appears, bows and kisses Ianto's hand. "I understand it's my great honour to escort you onstage."

"That's right, Clive. And I don't like it one bit that you look skinnier than me." Ianto purrs as he slides a hand on to the crook of Clive's arm.

The show is progressing, flashing out across the worlds.

**... And the award for Best Achievement in Sound goes to Kay Colvin and Mychal Smith for Hot And Cold.**

Applause.

The celebrities in the Green Room drink, eat and talk.

Ianto is deep in a giggling, conversation with an actress. Skip Thomas approaches Ianto again. "Ianto. One more song, then you."

Ianto nods, goes back to his conversation.

Jack steps up to Tony. "I'm going to have a look around. I'll come back for him. Stay alert."

Tony nods, watches Jack go.

Jack moves down the hall from the Green Room toward the stage.

Stagehands, technicians, performers speak in hushed tones. TV monitors are mounted throughout the area. On screen a distinguished-looking actor named

Reardon is serving as temporary master of ceremonies.

Jack walks along, checking the route, looking up into the flies. He rounds a corner and is face to face with Portman. "Portman. What are you doing here?"

"I'm on the job." Portman replies.

"Who?"

"Him." Portman points at a nearby TV monitor. On screen, Reardon is introducing the next song.

Applause.

**Now it's time to hear the final nominated song, from the film 'Queen Of The Night' - 'I Have Nothing.' And here to sing it for us, the multi-talented Miss Sandra Castle!**

"Short-term gig... but quite profitable... Listen, Jack, I'm sorry about Miami. You know, nothing really happened... I felt bad for you... I wanted to say something, but you disappeared..." Portman tells Jack as he is almost drowned out by the "I Have Nothing" fanfare.

Dancers rush onto stage.

_First section of song, commencing with shortened chorus then first verse_

The screen flashes so those out back know their times.

Reardon walks off the stage ten feet from where Jack and Portman are standing, glances at them and moves off down the hall.

"Back to work. I'll probably see you at the Governor's Ball." Portman walks off after Reardon. Jack watches him, thoughtful.

ON TV MONITOR - Sandra Castle sings "I Have Nothing" with great feeling. The lyrics recall the text of the death threat.

Jack issuddenly wary.

No rational cause.

Something in the air.

**THE CLOCK - 7:58**

Ianto's face is impassive as he watches Sandra Castle on the monitor. She is belting out his song like her life depends on it.

The celebrities in the Green Room are impressed with Sandra's performance. There is spontaneous applause.

Ianto turns to the room. "I want that broad run out of town."

Jack calls Tony on his coms. "Tony, you there?"

_Yeah, Jack._

"Tony, I've got a feeling this is the night. I think he's gonna go

for him in front of all the cameras. The kind of thing only a lunatic would do. That's how he wants it to look. Except he isn't a lunatic. He's very clever. I need you to help me."

_I'm with you, Jack._

There's no more competition between them.

Three sound technicians appear at Jack's side, very agitated. "You can't use that thing back here. The breakthrough's killing our radio mikes... we'll have to disconnect you."

Reluctantly, Jack disconnects his earpiece.

Tony fiddles with his earpiece.

Jack?... Jack?

Technicians approach Tony, too.

_Big finish of song and dance number (total 40 seconds)._

Applause and dancers off.

Jack walks past Tony. Tony holds up the earpiece in frustration. Jack nods. He walks over to Ianto. He seems tense and he senses it. And like a tangible thing, his anxiety is passed over to Ianto. He is frightened.

What's wrong?" Ianto says softly, reaching out to stoke Jack's cheek.

Skip Thomas appears at their side. **"** Ianto... Clive. Let's go, okay?"

Clive Healy comes over. Ianto must tear his eyes away from Jack. Tony floats up behind them.

Skip regards him with irritation and turns to Jack. "Really. Must we have everyone? We have our own men at the door."

"Tony stays." Jack snarls and Skip looks at Ianto for a response.

"Yes! I want him." Ianto simpers.

Skip shrugs.

Clive takes Ianto's arm. "Come, Ianto, let us brighten the firmament."

Ianto forces a smile, but his eyes follow Jack as he starts to lead the way out of the Green Room. On an impulse, he reaches for something from the makeup table and presses it into Ianto's hand. It's the Pocket Watch.

He clutches it like a talisman and follows Jack.

Tony brings up the rear.

Showtime.

 


	22. realisation

The group moves down the hall from the Green Room, past the stage right wings. Behind the scenery to the back of the stage.

Jack is watching from the wings… celebrity guests, technicians. His eyes examine each curtain, corner and recess.

He looks above him.

Ianto looks around nervously. His clutch is tense on Clive's arm. Clive pats him arm soothingly. "Try to relax, Ianto. I know you must be very excited."

Skip leads them to a set of temporary stairs behind the scenery; they lead to the centre of the top tier.

Production aides with clipboards and headphones wait up there.

**THE CLOCK - 8:05**

"Ianto, you'll go in there and Clive, you over there. You'll meet on the landing." Skip points and they both nod, but Ianto is distracted, tense. "Watch your step going down. Someone spilled some water."

Clive and Ianto climb the stairs. Ianto turns once more to look anxiously at Jack.

He clutches the watch but he doesn't see.

Jack watches them ascend.

He signals Tony to stay there until Ianto goes on.

Jack moves off toward the stage left wings.

" _I used to have an outfit just like that... And to present the Best Song award we have our debonair friend from England and the Welsh angel who has everything – Clive Healy and Ianto Jones!"_

A red camera light clicks on.

MUSIC UP

APPLAUSE

Clive and Ianto make their entrances on the TV monitor.

Jack swiftly adjusts his position so he can still see the stage. As he does, he glances under the scaffolding that supports the set.

Ianto and Clive reach the podium. Clive is all smiles.

Ianto is trying, but is obviously distracted.

As the applause dies away, Ianto can see: TV cameras, an orchestra in the pit, he huge audience, and the bright glare of the lights. At the front of the podium is the transparent plastic of the teleprompter; their lines can be clearly seen, printed out and moving vertically.

Clive starts to read with confidence, "Well, Ianto, I know that you only came tonight to present this award and you'll want to leave as soon as we're done."

Ianto's lines appear on the prompter, but he does not start reading them immediately. They stop moving on the screen.

On the large screens … Ianto's face, his eyes darting about.

There is an awful silence.

on the nearest TV camera. The teleprompter, now showing Clive's lines. The light. A man in the first row of the audience.

Ianto squeezes the pocket watch in his hand.

Clive picks it back up, "Over the course of the evening we've heard five smashing songs and the names of the artists who created them."

Jack, watching Ianto, hears the barely audible beeping start from the tiny receiver on his belt. He's puzzled.

His eyes dart to Ianto's hand and he sees the warch.

He knows what he's going through.

His hand is shaking badly.

Ianto sways.

Clive supports him as discreetly as he can, smiling out at the audience. Clive picks up Ianto's lines from the prompter, trying to make them fit. "And I know that no matter what anyone thinks, you have no personal favourites."

Thin laughter. The audience is starting to sense that something is wrong with Ianto.

"The Best Song nominees are: "Clock On The Wall" from 'The Dining Room Table' - By Dana S. Lee and Sara Spring. 'Give Me Your Trust' from 'Out Of the Gloom' - By David Siegel and Barbara G. Gordon. "I Have Nothing" from 'Queen Of The Night' - By Nancy Garbor. "Maybe Soon" from 'Maybe Soon' - Anne Trop and Ben Glass. And "Reflections Of My Heart" from 'Hot And Cold' – By Leslie Moraes." Clive smiles and squeezes Ianto's arm slightly in the hopes of redirecting him.

Ianto is nervously looking around as those in his line of sight could be a danger.

An usher near the wall shifts his weight. The orchestra conductor turns to look at her. A musician turns his sheet music. The dark at the back of the balcony. The teleprompter.

Jack tenses as he alone hears the beeping - monitoring Ianto's distress and fear.

"All right, Clive, let's find out" Ianto says suddenly bursting to life and the teleprompter operator has been thrown off and now takes a moment to get it moving again. "- let's find out who the winner is."

"The envelope. Ianto, shall I do the honours?" Clive purrs with relief as a stunning smile is beaming across the screens.

Clive works at the envelope, tearing, freeing the flap. His fingers work to pull out the contents.

Watching. The beeping is almost deafening - like a heartbeat.

A finger tenses on a trigger.

Ianto feels a breeze on his cheek and imagines it might be a bullet or laser flicking past and tells himself to keep it together.

Clive pulls the card out of the envelope. It reads: **"I HAVE NOTHING"**

Music by …..

Ianto gasps, stifles a scream.

"And the winner is "I Have Nothing" from 'Queen Of The Night' music and lyrics by Nancy Garbor." Clive rows and Ianto loses control, backs away from the podium and runs off stage right.

The audience applauds the winner.

As she makes the stage and begins her acceptance speech, Jack sees Ianto run off the opposite side of the stage and heads over there, around the back of the scenery.

Clive, the professional, stands holding the envelope. He glances off after Ianto, mystified.

A cluster of people surround Ianto, comforting him. Jack comes up. He does not try to force his way through to Ianto. People begin to move away, the cluster thins.

Two stars move off toward the back of the stage. "I always said he was nuts. I've always said that."

Clive Healy comes up. "Is he all right?"

He is assured that he is.

Clive goes out to his seat in the audience. As the people move off, Ianto becomes clearly visible to Jack. Tony is standing next to him, but another man has his arm around Ianto, comforting him.

Ianto's face is tear-stained and he dabs at it with a handkerchief. he is recovering fast. Past his fear, he is now very embarrassed.

His voice is strong. "Christ, what an idiot I am. Jesus. What the hell's the matter with me?"

Jack moves up closer, and exchanges looks with Tony, who is confused by Ianto's behaviour. Ianto turns toward Jack and, in so doing, brings the man comforting her around to face Jack. It is Reardon.

"Jack, I'm a raving lunatic."

Jack barely hears Ianto, so struck is he by Reardon's presence. Jack looks around them quickly for Portman. Ianto looks at Jack with irritation and turns back toward the Green Room. A production aide signals Reardon.

"I have to go back out. Are you okay?" Readon asks Ianot oftly ans Ianto nods.

"Thank you for your help, John. I'm fine."

Ianto walks off toward the Green Room with Tony.

Reardon starts to walk out toward the stage. Jack stops him. Reardon is irritated.

"Where's Portman?" Jack demands.

"Who?"

"Portman." Jack repeats the name of the man who claimed to be this man's bodyguard.

"Never heard of him."

Reardon walks out on stage. Jack is left standing alone.

All the weariness comes back, all his senses start to hum.

Jack looks around, then moves off toward the Green Room.

Ianto sits at a makeup table. Skip Thomas approaches, clipboard in hand.

"Ianto, I'm sorry, but if you're going to be in your seat for the Best Actor award, you've got to do it now."

"Skip, I'm moving as fast as I can." Ianto snaps with obvious annoyance, "For chrissake, go twitch somewhere else."

Skip backs off.

Spector and Jack join the group.

"Honey, everything's fine. No one noticed anything. Everybody in this building is ready to jump out of their skin from nerves." Spector croons.

"Bullshit, you saw me. A raving lunatic"

"Something's going on you should know about …" Jack starts to speak.

"You're making him crazy. You're making us all crazy." Spector cuts in.

"Ianto, I know who it is. He's here tonight. I think he's..."

"Just let the boy breathe!" Spector hisses into Jack's face.

"Shut up..." This is the last straw. He throws down the powder and

stands up fast, makeup and purse flying. The powder compact bursts over the cross lying on the table. Everyone in the Green Room looks at him.

"I can't do this anymore, I can't keep jumping at fucking shadows." Ianto roars, "I have to go on. My fans are waiting for me! Jack, you promised!"

They stare at each other and everyone else stares at them.

Ianto walks swiftly out the door of the Green Room.

Jack sits for a moment, then stands up. The bodyguard follows his charge to the door. He whispers hurriedly at Tony as they leave.

"Tony, it's Portman. Remember? The guy from ..."

Spector grabs Tony's sleeve, pulling him back. "After tonight, you're back in charge."

"What?" Tony gapes.

"He knows nothing about show business." Spector huffs.

Tony squares off with Spector. "You are an asshole."

Reardon is just introducing Tony Winestone, the actor who will announce the Best Actor award.

Jack watches, his eyes scanning, searching the vast theatre, squinting as he tries to see beyond the glare of the lights and the cameras.

"Thank you, John, thank you, Academy." Winestone smiles as he settles at the podium, "It brings back some great memories to be standing here again. Last year I figured something out. While it is a great honour to be nominated, actually winning caps the evening very pleasantly."

**LAUGHTER**

"Tonight we give this award not to the best actor, but to the best performance by one of five exquisitely talented artists..."

Ianto's face, expectant, nervous on the screen.

Jack is eyeballing the path Ianto would have to take to the stage, the steps to the stage, the faces of the ushers near the stage, the conductor, ready to play theme music.

"...And the nominees for best performance by an actor in a leading role are – Constantine Simpson for Hot and Cold..."

APPLAUSE.

Jack slips through the curtained doorway that leads to the backstage.

"...Allen Pearson for Maybe Soon..."

More APPLAUSE.

Jack comes up swiftly. He stops behind a curtain, six feet from the path the winner will take. Tony is there.

Jack speaks to him and, as he does, he puts a hand on Tony's arm. They both look across the stage, past Winston into the wings on the other side.

In the wings of the opposite side of the stage, half hidden by a curtain, a TV cameraman is hoisting his lightweight portable camera onto his shoulder. His back is to them.

"... IantoJones for Queen Of The Night..."

**APPLAUSE.**

"Tony, I want you on the other side... and check out that guy." Jack points to the Cameraman, "He's not supposed to be there..."

Tony trots off quickly.

The cameraman half-turns toward us, peering past the curtain into the audience. For a split second, we glimpse his face.

It's Portman.

Then someone crosses quickly in front of him and he's gone.


	23. thank you and goodbye

"L.C. Dean for I Dream Of Peace ...and Eric Gardner for The Harper Plan..."

**APPLAUSE.**

Jack draws his gun. He glances quickly to Tony, but Tony is already on his way, trotting round the labyrinth behind the set.

Jack automatically raises his sleeve to call to Tony, and then realizes his communications are useless. He tries to see where Portman has disappeared to, but he daren't lose sight of Ianto.

"And the winner is... Ianto Jones for Queen Of The Night."

Jack is grim. He looks past the curtain to Ianto.

Deafening applause in the main auditorium.

A stunned Ianto stands. Smith and Spector kiss him. People nearby reach out to touch him. Ianto walks along his row.

The orchestra plays "I Have Nothing."

Backstage is a mass of drapes and flats. Behind them, the cameraman is fixing something to the side of his camera. His back is to us. Tony comes up briskly behind him, unable to see his face.

"Hey! You! What the fuck you think you're doin' back here..." Tony barks and With amazing speed, the cameraman - Portman – wheels around, simultaneously jabbing two outstretched fingers from his free hand straight into Tony's eyes. Tony cries out, his hands flying to his face.

Portman's hand moves swiftly again, jabbing to a nerve behind Tony's ear, Tony drops like a sack.

Glancing rapidly around, Portman sees all other eyes on the auditorium. He pulls the curtain around Tony's body - obscuring it.

He then removes his own "SECURITY" ID and fixes a laminated "PRESS" ID to his lapel.

Jack gestures animatedly to the head of security and several guards. The music and the applause drown out his words and we do not hear them. The guards rush off backstage and into the auditorium.

Ianto walks along his row. Hands reach out to him. Some people stand in their seats around him. A crane-mounted TV camera swoops down between Jack and his view of Ianto, obscuring him for a brief instant.

Desperately scanning, Jack is seeking. Suddenly his face freezes.

As Ianto reaches the centre aisle and starts to walk toward the steps, there in the far aisle, his face almost hidden, is Portman - the camera, hand-held on his shoulder, moving level with Ianto, 20 feet behind him.

Jack raises his gun.

Ianto walks down the aisle toward the side steps. Tears in his eyes.

Thunderous applause.

Security guards in the side aisles look around in all directions. They can't see anything.

Portman, now almost completely obscured behind the members of the audience, as more and more of them stand to applaud Ianto.

Ianto keeps appearing and disappearing behind the heads of the audience.

Jack is desperate to get a clear shot at Portman but unable to fire without hitting a bystander.

Ianto wipes his face as he approaches the podium, steadily, controlling himself as he mounts the steps. The outline of his body becomes difficult to see against the glare of the footlights and the lights at the side of the auditorium.

Jack is straining to see, his eyes squint against the dazzle.

Ianto approaches Winston.

The applause and music is deafening.

He can't see Portman past the glare. He can't fire into the audience. He knows Ianto is now at his most vulnerable. There is only one thing he can do to protect his charge.

Jack runs on stage at terrific speed and leaps through the air at Ianto, twisting his body as he does.

Ianto turns his head, sees Jack leaping at him and gasps out with a mixture of fury and terror.

"No!" Ianto screams as the silenced gun taped to the side of the camera fires.

Jack and Ianto tumble over on the floor.

The podium topples and there are screams from the audience.

Chaos on all screens.

"What the fuck?" the Director barks, "Go to commercial..."

Totally calm and, as he gambled, Portman is invisible in the commotion. Camera still on his shoulder, he slowly backs away from the scene. Ushers and uniformed security men rush past him towards the stage. People leap from their seats. A woman screams piercingly behind him.

Portman doesn't blink.

Ianto starts to rise on all fours and sees, as hands reach out to help him, the blood on Jack's shirt.

He has taken the hits for him.

But he's still on the job, gaze alert. Without taking his eyes from the auditorium, his left arm stretches out, with some pain, to push Ianto back down.

The right arm, gun in hand, sweeps the auditorium.

Where is Portman? Jack can't see past the mob.

Ushers fall on Jack in a heap, trying to disarm him. Security men try to pull them off. Ianto shouts, trying to make himself heard above the noise.

"He's my bodyguard. Get off him! He's O.K..."

One brief glimpse that could be Portman. A cameraman turns. It's not. Jack is desperate, pushing away a helping arm. The chaos mounts.

Portman turns away from the stage as four cops pound past him. He walks away. Suddenly, for one brief second, his face loses its composure as he looks to the side door.

Hysterical audience members jostle for the exit, screaming and shouting. It's like a football scrum. Cops and security men pushing and pulling.

His escape route is blocked.

Briefly glimpsed through blurred, frenzied, Jack is staggering towards Portman. Still seeking his target, biting his lip in pain.

Cool again, Portman turns back to the stage, seeking an alternative escape route, camera still providing cover.

A lumbering figure, blood streaming from one eye, his .38 drawn and outstretched. It's Tony staggering to the edge of the stage, straight towards his attacker.

"Jack! Jack! Over here!"

Jack and Ianto's heads swivel in unison at the sound, looking towards the far aisle.

Against the side wall at the front, Portman's eyes desperately scan for the source of the voice. He sees Tony, his pistol takes aim.

For a split second, two running figures pass and cross leaving a momentary clear line to Portman.

Jack FIRES.

ONCE.

TWICE.

Jack's bullets hit home. The first slams Portman in the chest, knocking him against the wall.

The second hits the camera on his shoulder, exploding it around his face.

Blood spatters a woman's white Armani dress and the shirtfront of her escort. Portman's body slumps forward in her lap, pinning her back in her seat. He's dead. His pistol drops onto a pair of shiny, black leather pumps.

Jack holds his aim steady, reluctant to look away. He half turns to Ianto, wincing with the effort.

Ianto's unhurt.

He has fulfilled his promise.

Ianto throws his arms around Jack and hugs him, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Jack Harkness's face is sad and weary. His guard is finally down. Nothing more can happen. He slowly lowers the gun, closes his eyes and lets his head fall onto Ianto's.

In the midst of the commotion of medics, security men, police and ushers, Spector bends down and gently retrieves the gold envelope and the card bearing Ianto's name. There are splatters of blood on it. He tries to wipe them off with the silk handkerchief from his breast pocket.

A chaos of press and public, ambulance and police lights flashing.

Police and paramedics surrounding a man on a stretcher -it is Jack - Ianto walks at his side, clutching his hand as he is rushed to an ambulance.

Tony, a dressing over his eyes, is also helped out by paramedics. Among the gathered crowd, we focus in on one face.

It is Dan, pushed back to the sidelines and unable to see what is happening. He slowly turns and walks away.

/

/

/

A buffed-out charter turboprop stands on the tarmac as the last pieces of equipment of Ianto's band are loaded aboard from a truck.

A limousine pulls up and Ianto gets out with Tony and Court, who is clearly acting as his bodyguard.

He greets some members of the band and others who will be part of his entourage.

A roadie has his luggage removed from the limo and loaded aboard the plane.

Smith is trying to hurry him on board.

Spector is conspicuous by his absence.

As Ianto and the others prepare to get onto the plane, Tony, wearing a dark leather eyepatch, reacts to something and Jack approaches from the nearby parking area.

He is pale. Under his clothes it can be seen that his torso is still taped. He smiles as Tony. Their handshake becomes a quick hug.

"How's it going?" Jack asks quietly and Tony smiles.

"Under control. But it won't be the same... ya mutt." Tony fakes a glancing blow to Jack's chin.

Over by the plane, Flynn spots Jack and tugs at Ianto's arm, till he turns to look.

Flynn runs up to Jack and hugs him around the knees. Ianto approaches and Tony moves back toward the plane.

Smith waves in Jack's direction, tapping his watch to indicate they are late.

Jack waves and smiles.

Ianto's surprised to see Jack, but clearly happy.

Flynn is ecstatic.

"You shouldn't be here." Ianto scolds and Jack laughs.

There is a pause.

Flynn grins.

"I heard you made good on a few bets"

Ianto snorts and launches himself at jack, then cringes as he remembers he is hurt but Jack is already kissing him.

Tony picks up the bag Jack had dropped and silently walks towards the plane with it as Ianto leans in close to Jack's ear.

"wanna get a takeaway?" Ianto whispers, "I got enough for a taxi too."

Jack laughs as he walks to the plane with his beloved.

Ready to start a whole new life.

Ianto stops at the top of the steps and looks back as if saying goodbye.

Then he takes a deep breath and turns towards the shrieking child inside the plane, stepping towards his everything.

He has it all.


End file.
